


Intimacy

by bluestockng



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dorks in Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Romance, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Soulmates, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9486926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestockng/pseuds/bluestockng
Summary: A series of non-linear one-shots focusing on significant moments in Jyn and Cassian's relationship."First, Jyn had never been an expert at intimacy.  That was a problem."Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake.  Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.





	1. Intimacy

Cassian had never felt something like this. It had been years since he had held anyone at all. And never this closely. Never this comfortably, either. He struggled to remember the last time. He must have been, what? 16, 17, 18, when the older pilots came around looking for some small way to beat back the fear of death the night before a mission. He couldn't recall their faces, much less their names. Had he ever bothered to learn them at all? Had it mattered to the women that he never knew? He supposed it wasn't really him they were after. But he was there, and young, and just as eager to feel a little less like a shell. It always took copious amounts of wine for both parties, drunk down in the mess or in some seedy dive bar. He could recall the taste of the wine, but not the touch of bodies or the sound of their voices. None of them ever came back. The harder he tried to remember, the farther away those memories felt. Jyn in his arms was the only thing that felt real anymore.

His mind flitted in and out of dreams and he privately wondered what the others would think of this if they knew. Chirrut would probably be relieved. Cassian was fairly certain that Chirrut had alluded to these quiet nighttime activities, and if Chirrut knew, Baze had probably been (unwilling) informed as to the monk's suspicions. Baze would be mildly perturbed. Bodhi would be confused, but then Bodhi was always a bit addled. It was Kay's reaction that Cassian feared the most. Sardonic, sarcastic, caustic as always. Cassian hoped that even Kay would grow to admire her in time, as the others all had. 

Despite the mandatory three week furlough, none of them had left the base. They just seemed more comfortable when everyone else was within eyesight. A day couldn't pass by without Cassian seeking her out or finding some excuse to pull her close. The tiny, romantic part of his brain likes to imagine that she gravitated to him whenever she was lonely or in need of entertainment. If Cassian was honest, however, he knew that Jyn Erso did not really get lonely very much anymore. He had simply learned to be lonely. Still, they found reasons to be together, both with the others and alone. These were moments stolen by a man who never counted on a happy life, but who, by some miraculous intervention, found himself on the cusp of finding such a life. If only he could reach out to her, hold Jyn the way she deserved, the way he was sure that she had wanted since those last moments on Scarif...

Since their rescue, their bodies had mended. Their minds would take longer. Cassian was content to give her the time and space she needed for Galen and for Saw. In the meantime, he would help her rest. He suspected that years of sleeping alone had affected their need for touch more than either had realized until she had snuck into his room late one night. Cassian willingly shared his bed, and quietly hoped that she trusted him enough to share it for many more nights to come. They had survived and they would go on surviving. One moment, one day, one night at a time until they knew each other enough and had healed enough. He held her a little tighter and felt her shift slightly in her sleep. He would be lying is he said he did not want her. How darkly funny that had survived Scarif only to die here in this bed from all the wanting, so close to the one who could save him.

Jyn had always been a restless sleeper. It usually took her hours to drift off, and this night was no exception. The reasons for her insomnia tonight, however, were decidedly different. She moved an inch, chasing a cool spot under the covers. Cassian held her closer. While a sweet gesture, Jyn privately admitted that being held was a far greater chore than doing the holding. She'd been feigning sleep for a while now, unable to completely diffuse the urge to turn about and kiss Cassian. Ordinarily, recklessness was her default. Nonetheless, Jyn sensed that Cassian probably appreciated subtlety. She needed a battle plan. 

First, Jyn had never been an expert at intimacy. That was a problem. As Saw Gerrera's soldier and honorary daughter, her opportunities for sex were limited. Few men were foolish enough to approach her and those who did were trounced soundly. Being a soldier always came first and Jyn never questioned it. On second thought, a history dalliances would have come in handy years later when she slept with an imperial officer to get her hands on papers that would give her trade clearance for some stolen cargo. She had never been the femme fatale type. Jyn believed that she lacked the charisma and anyway, straight theft almost always sufficed. She hoped that sleeping with Cassian would be different. He seemed like a man who would make up for lost time. Like her, she thought that it had been a while since anyone had touched him tenderly.

Jyn was secretly grateful for these nights spent in Cassian's quarters. She had never really learned how to be held by someone who demanded nothing and who gave everything. It felt close to home. She chastised herself for being selfish. She wanted to be Cassian's. He wanted to be hers. And yet, she always snuck out in the wee hours of the morning. He never stirred, but she suspected that he was always awake for her departure, simply too reticent to ask for her to stay. 

She had let the others creep into her heart. Why couldn't she admit that Cassian had as well? She tried and failed to ignore the feeling that welled up inside her her. He was to the be the most important of them all, the most central to her life from here on out. If she was honest, she wanted him to be. In that elevator, he had held her gaze and leaned his weight upon her, hardly able to stand. His face was half shrouded in darkness, but she knew when he leaned in to her. She had wanted to kiss him then, too. She wanted to brand him as hers. She needed to wrench the hope of a life from inevitable death...

Until that moment, she had always pictured herself as Saw's soldier with a stick and nothing left to lose. She had been willing to sacrifice everything in order to take the day. How he'd looked at her! She'd finally realized that she had him to lose and that she had already lost him. In his face she had witnessed the ghost of a life they might have lived. For that she had refused to kiss him. She kept her head down, her best honed skill. She was constantly running away, but now she would force herself into standing her ground. Why was committing to dying on Scarif easier than committing to the man? It wasn't a ghost life anymore, it was real. After all, she could feel his arms around her now, and in the elevator, and on the beach. It was altogether too much.

Jyn opened her eyes and shifted in the sheets until she was facing him. When she finally looked up, he was waiting for her.


	2. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " If another man called him lucky, Cassian Andor wouldn’t deny it."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

In the quiet hours before dawn, Cassian tried to conjure up a single word that might best describe the woman who slept beside him. The only word that fit, he thought, was burning. She radiated heat and spirit unlike any other person he had ever known. Even now, at her most serene, she gleamed in the light from the moons outside their window. Her skin always felt warm to his touch, a blessing when they were stationed on Hoth. During those frigid nights, she kept him warm where a half dozen blankets failed. He listened to her sweet, steady breathing as he marveled at the sight of her.  
Sleep beckoned him as well, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to see her now, in a rare moment of tranquility. He wanted to commit every inch of her to memory. He didn’t know if he wanted to memorize the look and feel of her because he was afraid he would lose her or if it was because he couldn’t believe that this was real. He remembered that the Alliance’s dossier on Jyn Erso called her a “flight risk.” Like a shooting star, she ran and fought her way across the galaxy, defying anyone who might seek to catch her. Cassian Andor feared waking with the dawn to find her gone, without even a note. He had awoken to an empty bed enough times in his life to know intimately the feeling of longing and disappointment.

On second thought, her leaving was unlikely because she had tangled herself in his sheets. All of his sheets. She had a habit of stealing them. He didn’t mind, though, because he didn’t feel cold when he held her. Jyn’s hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her head, as unkempt and wild as the woman herself. Whenever she laid her head against his chest, he gently stroked her hair and let it run through his fingers.  
Hours before, they had fallen into bed together after a night of drinking, carousing, and revelry. As much as Cassian hated saying goodnight to their friends, the heat of the drink and the company of friends was belied by the sight of Jyn across the room, dressed impeccably. She usually opted for utilitarian and functional clothing that protected her body, but also hid it under layers of linen and leather. Tonight, however, he could easily admire her shapely profile in her low-cut sweater. He found himself wanting her the most whenever she looked relaxed and comfortable. She and Bodhi had been talking animatedly about the merits of U-wing Starfighter craft when she sensed that someone was watching. Jyn glanced in Cassian’s direction and flashed him a smile that he knew could light up the blackness of space. Cassian knew that Bodhi would forgive him for taking her hand and leading her upstairs, especially since Baze and Chirrut had already disappeared into the night together.

When his door shut with a distinctive click of the distinctive locking mechanism, all of the rest of the room fell away. She slipped her arms around his waist and up under his shirt, pulling him back with her. In a few steps they fell together, laughing and drunk on love, back onto the bed. Jyn, ever eager, pulled her sweater off, crumpled it and threw it across the room into a pile of their previously discarded clothing. Cassian struggled with the buttons of his shirt, fingers fumbling in the dark.

“I had more to drink than I thought,” he joked as Jyn swatted his hands away. 

She stripped him of his shirt as she felt his hot breath on her neck and his hands framing her back.

“For an intelligence officer, Captain, you made an unintelligent choice of shirt.”

With his head swimming with wine and desire, he kissed her to avoid thinking of a clever retort. With the light of the moons as their only witness, he pressed his lips gently to every freckle on her body. He smiled against the soft, delicate skin of her stomach as she shivered. They had been together for months now, but they had both lived for years without touch, consequently the feeling of another person’s touch, however tender, still caught them off guard on occasion. Though neither could be called inexperienced, neither came into the relationship with any great mastery of skill. Cassian had more sex before meeting her, they discovered, but Jyn’s stories were funnier. They devoted themselves to making up for the time they’d lost. What they had originally lacked in finesse, they countered with passion and a feverish need that scorched white hot. 

All of that had been over for an hour. The fire was burning low now. He’d wanted her again immediately, but he let her drift off to sleep as he pressed small kisses to the back of her neck. His moustache always tickled her. Usually, Jyn slept fitfully, constantly tossing and turning. Seeing her now, she didn’t look like a woman who had fought a war and survived by the skin of her teeth. Instead, she looked peaceful, beautiful, but still burning brightly. He thought that the firestorm on Scarif couldn’t compare to her intensity. 

Somewhere in between nights in bed and days flying on missions, they began to mend all that had been broken in each other by decades of war and mistrust. These days, Jyn seemed less guarded and Cassian slowly embraced a prospect of more than subterfuge and spying. He began to live again, she began to trust again. The future that they might create together became most clear during these nights when they could shut out the rest of the world. Cassian could see it in his mind’s eye if he tried. Between the wine, the sex, and the warmth of her, he dared to picture something more with her. He’d never been a daydreamer before meeting Jyn.

He traced her body with the tips of his fingers, from her waist down her side before resting his palm upon the curve of her hip. If another man called him lucky, he wouldn’t deny it. He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head.

“Cassian?”

Her voice startled him out of his reverie. 

“Either go to sleep or prepare for round two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to expand my original one-shot into a series depicting the most intimate moments of Jyn and Cassian's relationship. I'll post them here, in no particular order. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, or left kudos. You're truly the best!


	3. Possibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jyn and Cassian Andor lived their lives on the edge; Jyn secretly knew that reality would bring them back down to earth."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

_Look at what you've gotten yourself into._

Jyn Erso, never known for her reserve, had, once again, created a mess out of her life.  
She admitted, privately, that they hadn’t been as careful as they should have been. Clearly. Many nights after close calls, Jyn had grabbed Cassian’s hand and pulled him into bed, without a second thought. Constantly standing on the precipice, a moment from death, produced a wild effect in them. While others might grow more cautious, they grew more daring and reckless. Cassian Andor’s life, once ordered and organized, became a chaotic freefall when Jyn entered the picture. Between the adrenaline haze of missions and the constant flow of wine and whiskey, it was a wonder it didn’t happen much sooner.

And yet, she couldn’t regret the choices they’d made. Sure, Cassian had been taking those pills from the medical station. Nothing was ever certain, of course, and such things were easy to forget in the heat of the moment. They lived their lives in the heat of the moment. Young, drunk, in love, risking it all day after day. Jyn and Cassian lived their lives on the edge; Jyn secretly knew that reality would bring them back down to earth. _Reality could’ve been a lot more polite about it_ , thought Jyn.

She touched her lights lightly with her finger. Leaning her head back against the wall, she imagined the feel of his lips upon hers. The taste of Corellian whiskey; burning, searing her throat on the way down. Even the taste of the galaxy’s finest liquor couldn’t compare to Cassian’s ability to intoxicate her completely. Things went wrong all the time. They weren’t the first couple and they wouldn’t be the last.  
Who was she, Jyn Erso, to bring a child into the world? And yet, she felt sure. In the pit of her stomach, she’d known as soon as she missed a period. She didn’t even bother going to a medical droid. She lied to herself, saying that she didn’t need the gossip getting around the base before she could work up the courage to tell Cassian. Truthfully, the truth scared her more than any firefight or battle.  
Jyn forced herself to look over at him. He lay there in their bed, his silhouette perfectly draped with a sheet, bathed in moonlight. Gently snoring. 

_At least one of us isn’t worried tonight._

Meanwhile, her own mind stumbled over her choices and possibilities. Body and mind in freefall. Pregnancy announcements, she decided, required a much more careful strategy than battle plans. How would he react? Even if he was half to blame, you never knew how a man would take becoming a father. By surprise, no less.

They were important agents for the Alliance. They couldn’t exactly quit their day jobs and go raise the kid on Lah’mu, could they? Wistfully, for just a moment, she allowed her mind to travel to the gentle rolling hills, the lochs, and the damp soil of Eadu. It wouldn’t be a bad life. But it wasn’t a life for them.

What if they had the child and something happened to one of them, or both? She wasn’t expecting a grand marriage proposal from Cassian any time soon. Neither had any living family. Everyone they loved—Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze, Kaytoo—were also risking their lives every day in the name of the Alliance. Not ideal godparents. She wouldn’t want to stop fighting now that she'd started. And Cassian? Well, the rebellion had been his life for more than twenty years. She couldn’t ask him to give away that part of himself.

_How do I tell him?_

Nobody ever taught her how to be a mother. She could barely keep herself alive these days. Jyn sat in a chair, across the room from the bed. She wore his shirt, the one with the blue stripes, much too large for her small, yet agile frame. Bare feet curled up beneath her. She’d been crying for some time. Lucky, she thought, that Cassian slept soundly.

She pressed her palm against her belly. Deceptively flat. How long could she go on pretending? Certainly not long enough. What if she left right now? She could throw on her clothing, grab Cassian’s parka and her blaster. Kiss him gently on the forehead, lightly so he wouldn’t wake. She wouldn’t leave a note. Let him think that she just grew restless again, let him believe they’d cross paths again, down the road. Let him believe that it hadn’t been real, it was easier that way. Steal a ship. Could the homestead on Lah’mu still be standing after all these years? Jyn always made her own way in life, refusing to rely on others ever since Saw abandoned her. Forging her own path seemed a natural choice. Her life seemed like a long line of mistakes, missteps, and blunders. What’s one more? 

Cassian, however, was one of the few things she’d done mostly right. They had their fights, petty disagreements. She’d even hated him once; it took surviving the firestorm on Scarif for her to let go of her anguish and feeling of betrayal. Jyn didn’t forgive easily; Cassian was worth it. She thoughts that perhaps she’d disrupted his life enough, he could look back on their time together fondly. He’d never have to deal with the fallout of their love affair.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to end her pregnancy. As a woman on the run and then later a key member of the Rebel Alliance, she’d never had the luxury of picturing herself as a mother. Secretly, she never thought she’d live that long. If she was on her own, the blackness of space got lonely very quickly. It would be tough, of course, but they would make it together, her and her child.  
Panic induced nonsense, of course. Jyn admitted she could no more leave Cassian behind than she could leave behind her own soul. She didn’t want to disappoint him by creating more difficulties in a life that she already complicated beyond the point of breaking. She’d spent her entire adulthood running. Maybe this was a sign telling her she could finally settle down.

_Would he want to settle down with me?_

He might not be able to take as many risks as a father. Would he be able to give up that life up for her if she asked? She willed herself to find a weakness in his character, but she couldn’t. Against all odds, her faith in him was absolute. They’d survived Scarif together. They could survive this. And the child? God willing, it would grow up in a galaxy made better by the sacrifices made by Cassian and Jyn. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she stepped across the floor towards the bed. She shoved a pile of clothes out of the way with her foot. Always making a mess. Inching into the bed, Jyn felt the awakening apprehension. She poked him in the back a few times. She shook his shoulder. 

“Jyn, s’three in the morning…” 

_Now or never_

“Cassian, I’m pregnant.”

Any thought of returning to sleep left Cassian Andor in a second. He stopped, mouth slightly agape and sat up in the bed. He took a deep breath and ran a coarse hand over his face before regaining composure and speaking. 

“I’m sorry. This is my fault, isn’t it? I must’ve forgotten a pill. What do you want to do?”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. We did this together, didn’t we? And I think, I honestly think, that I might be glad.” 

Jyn wasn’t just saying it to make him feel better about getting her pregnant. This moment and all those followed, were a chance for her to raise a child better than she had been raised. Their child, not just their relationship, would be the means by which they would forge a new life together.

“Jyn, I’ve done so many things…I never thought I could be a father, but I will try…for you both.”

With that, he pulled her down against his chest and held her still. Jyn didn’t expect grand, romantic pronouncements or promises of eternal love. She didn’t need him to swear in every tongue, to every god in every religion, or to the Force. Their relationship evolved beyond that point now; his word would always be enough for her. Cassian Andor would never leave her and she would never leave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I wanted to do something a little different. I picture all these vignettes as happening at different points in their relationship, so they aren't necessarily intended to be read linearly. I like the idea of Jyn and Cassian having a family eventually. To everybody who reads, writes, and comments: you're the best and I'm so thankful for your feedback and support!


	4. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They knew each other’s weaknesses and failings as much as they ignored their own."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

What does a fallen star look like? Jyn supposed it might look a little something like Cassian Andor. Bright, beautiful, but so fleeting that it was hard to possess fully. You had to be quick; one moment he would show his true self and the next it was gone. At first, the challenge was simply to pierce his often impenetrable armor to see a glimpse of a smile, a look of acknowledgement. All of their doubts about each other burned away long ago on the beaches at Scarif, but allowing themselves to reach other to one another still posed a problem. Jyn admired Cassian for his ability to hold himself back as much as she loved him for giving his full self in those moments when he could. 

In the few days she had to know him after they met, she learned to see past his façade. It was always in his eyes. Big, dark, overflowing with affection one moment, closed off the next. She didn’t blame, of course. Twenty years of keeping emotions under wraps will do that to a person, and anyway, she knew a thing or two about trying to forget. She supposed that it had started back on Eadu, when he’d looked at her with such a look of bitterness and vulnerability as they’d fought in front of everyone. By now, they knew each other’s weaknesses and failings as much as they ignored their own.

What does a fallen man look like? Jyn supposed that it might look a little something like Cassian Andor. Unlike the other fallen men in her life—she thought now of Saw Gerrera—Cassian clawed his way back from the brink. Every inch of him, however, still ached from the countless tragedies of a lifetime spent at war. They both bore the weight of their losses, mostly in silence. In some moments, moments like this, she could perfectly understand the unspoken injuries of the heart and of the soul. 

For the longest time, long before they slept together, she pictured his body in her mind. She thought that his back must be covered in scars, some noble, some not. She knew plenty of men who bragged about their scars—“this one’s from a scorned Twi'lek, I broke her heart!”, “I got this ‘un here from a bar fight in Mos Eisley!”, “from shrapnel, I swear!”—but Cassian wasn’t the type. He had neither the heart nor the soul of a braggart. Spies with large mouths, after all, did not survive long. Most of his scars existed now only in his mind. These wounds that never fully healed, but that were covered anyway by years of scar tissue called denial. She could not trace them like those on her own body, but she felt them nonetheless every time his eyes grew dark at the recollection of a memory, a mission, a murder. How many had he borne these invisible scars alone? 

Tonight, of all nights, they’d snuck out of the Yavin 4 base to go star gazing. Her idea. She’d packed a blanket and a bottle of wine, ignoring the nagging feeling that they probably drank too much. Sometimes she worried about that; usually she didn’t. If she died tomorrow, she’d surely wish she’d had a decent drink and a good lay the night before. This date felt unusually romantic for wartime, but they took the good days when they could get them.  
“I don’t know if there will be any falling stars tonight, Jyn,” Cassian whispered in her ear, making her body erupt in goosebumps. 

The sound of his accent, soothing yet rough, always felt like a balm.

“Shame, isn’t it? I was hoping for a good show.”

In the darkness, she knew he must be pricking up an eyebrow mischievously. Well, if it was a show he was after…

“Follow me,” Jyn urged him as she grabbed his hand.

As if he had any hope of saying “no” when she implored him like that. She knew the effect that she had upon him, for even now, his eyes could find her body. Together, hand in hand, half naked in the moonlight, they ran through the trees. Cassian’s weakness: he couldn’t resist her. Her impetuousness attracted him like no other woman alive ever could. 

“It’s here somewhere.”

“Jyn, our clothes back in the clearing…”

Would they be able to find their clothes again? Or would they have to slink back to the temple in the cool light of day in their skivvies? She silenced the questions he must asking with a searing kiss. Jyn could practically hear his heart throbbing his chest and his blood racing. Hers too. By the hand again, she led him deeper into the jungle. Every so often, he’d press her against the trunk of a tree and feather kisses up and down her neck. He pulled at what little clothing she had left. Playfully pushing him away, she resisted the urge to act purely on impulse and see the fantasy out. The fantasy could wait a moment more.

Eventually, she found what she’d been looking for: a waterfall in the heart of the jungle. In a moment, she’d stripped completely. He followed her into the water. They dove under together, linking arms, linking bodies, linking hearts. Beneath her feet she felt silt and seaweed. The water was too dark too see through, but she knew he was there, watching her. After a minute, they emerged out of the water with a loud splash, greedily gulping air between fits of laughter.

After they’d recovered, he took her into his arms and kiss her. Head filled with yearning, she wrapped her legs around him. Sensing what she wanted, and knowing what he wanted for himself, Cassian carried her out of the water and set her onto the bank. There, with only the stars above to bear witness, they took each other somewhere else entirely. Beyond the tops of the tropical trees, beyond the midnight moon, beyond even the stars they moved together. She felt the chill of the wind, but all she noticed was his weight upon her, all she saw was the stars above her, burned into her mind like a brand. 

In the morning, she’d awake, him beside her in their bed, and wonder if it had all been an alcohol-infused trance. Before Cassian, was there a time in her life when she had felt so deliriously happy and so perfectly wanted? 

In their shared reveries afterwards, he whispered to her, so soft and breathy she almost missed it.

“I’m sorry about the stars.” 

“I don’t need them tonight, Cassian." 

Looking at him now, chest bare and gazing skyward; she knew she had one already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Since I'm splitting my writing time between "Intimacy" and "Callsigns" it might be a few more days before another update.
> 
> I really can't thank you guys enough! I'm currently contemplating a third story that I might start to develop after I finish "Callsigns", I hope you'll stick with me for that :)


	5. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She fought him with every inch of herself, and still, like a moth to a flame, he returned to her."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Cassian’s mind was anything but orderly. He’d been having strange dreams from which he couldn’t awake. A battle, black smoke, a steel shaft, a floating column, flickering light in a vault, all of these images churned within his mind, tormenting him. He tossed and turned, but he remained trapped for days within his own mind. They weren’t visions, exactly, but they weren’t quite memories either. All he knew is that he needed to escape and that he needed to find someone. But who? In his fever dreams, he couldn’t recall. He tried to picture the face, but he could not.  
Finally, he awoke with a start. His body drenched in sweat as if he had run for hours. He clawed about himself in the dark for some clue as to where he was. Cassian Andor did not get trapped easily. White sheets entangled his limbs and he could discern a faint beeping noise, as if from some type of machine.

_The med bay, then._

Cassian Andor, by some miracle, survived the battle of Scarif. He ran his hands cautiously over his body, afraid of what he might—or might not—find. He seemed whole but his head ached tremendously and much of his skin had been carefully bandaged. 

_Who is it that I’m forgetting? Whose is the face that I see?_

He strained his eyes against the dark, but it only made his head rattle more. There had been someone with him, he knew, all the way. He remembered looking for their face in moments of fear on Scarif. He’d held her, he was sure, maybe wanted to kiss her. Had he? The feel of her hand in his still burned, far more real than the wounds he wore. 

Who was she? Where had she gone? He forced himself to search the cloud of his mind: brown hair, acerbic wit, dark humor. How could he ever forget her?

“JYN!” 

He sat bolt upright, but let out a cry of pain and fell back onto his pillow. His mind went black for a moment, as if he had briefly lost consciousness. The pain in his side caused his eyes to water and he felt the tremors from a days-old blaster shot as if it were new. Gasping, he clutched his side and tried to remain as still and quiet as possible. After a few minutes, he turned his head from side to side to check the beds beside him. Even in the darkness, he could vaguely distinguish the shapes in the beds, some partially covered by white sheets. 

Bodhi and Baze were safe, at least. Chirrut might be in the bed beside Baze, but he couldn’t be sure. He wracked his mind to put the pieces together. He and Jyn in the elevator, he and Jyn on the beach, the oncoming shockwave enveloping them. Or so he thought. Bodhi must’ve saved them with Rogue One, but he couldn’t remember. Between the fall down the shaft and the hit he took from Krennic’s blaster, he knew his memory wasn’t up to par. By the feel of it, his body wasn’t either.

In spite of the aches and pains, he wanted to move. He needed to check the other beds to find Chirrut and Jyn. He needed to know that they were safe. And if they weren’t…

He denied the possibility. If he and Baze survived, surely they did too. 

Instead of focusing on the pain in his heart, he turned his focus to the pain in his limbs and body. He supposed that it was the worst he’d ever felt, it was definitely the worst he had ever been wounded. Usually, he prided himself on his ability to get out od conflicts without a scratch. Those days, he suspected, disappeared around the same time that Jyn Erso catapulted herself into his life. After her, he couldn’t very easily go back to sleep. He wouldn’t even want to. For the first time in many years, he felt truly alive.

He shifted slightly and groaned in pain. 

_Well, mostly alive._

He couldn’t move much, but he could force himself to move beyond the fog in his mind. He could think. He chose, in those hours, to think of her and only of her. If anyone asked, he’d deny it, but he prayed to whatever god or Force might listen to him.

His dreams no longer tormented him. He dreamt of her face, smiling at him, he dreamt of her hands, clasped in his own, he dreamt of her kissing him. He slept more peacefully than he had since he was a small child. When he awoke again, he felt pain, but his heart rested lighter within his chest. 

In the bright light of day, he could see the beds around him. He’d been right about Chirrut. They, however, were all that remained of Rogue One. That knowledge bore a deep pit in his stomach. The beaches of Scarif must be littered with the soldiers of the Alliance, and only Rogue One returned. The ones he loved most, however, were within reach, and for that at least he felt grateful. He could see them all-worse for wear, but alive. All except Jyn. Nagging doubt riddled his mind, but he refused to believe that he could go on existing in the world without her in it. Even now, she found a way to bother him. No other person, let alone a woman, had ever gotten under Cassian’s skin the way that Jyn did. How long had he known her? Not long enough to justify his feelings, but he didn't care. Surviving was strange that way, he decided. It wouldn't be easy. Love never is. But, she fought him with every inch of herself, and still, like a moth to a flame, he returned to her.

“Where’s Jyn?” He croaked, to no one in particular. The others seemed to still be asleep.

“Where’s Jyn?” he repeated again, louder this time, hoping that whatever droid made those beeping noises might give him the information he needed.

A medical droid, previously beeping in the corner, whizzed over to Cassian. 

"Good morning, Captain. It's good to see you awake. How may I be of assistance?"

"Jyn Erso. Where has she gone? Is she...?"

"Alive, most certainly. She threatened to shoot me if I didn't let her leave yesterday."

"Leave. She's gone?" 

Without thinking, he made to swing his legs out of bed. He couldn't muster the strength. Gone. Jyn Erso gone? He should have seen this coming. Should have known that she'd run from him the first chance she got. He tried to hide his bitter disappointment as a noise in the hallway caused the medical droid to turn way. Still, he thought. He could find her. As soon as he could walk, he could go out after her. He'd find her and then maybe they could run together. If she'd have him. 

As if on cue, he heard the doors of the med bay enter as at least two people ran into the room. From the noise alone, he assumed that someone was fighting to get into the med bay.

"You begged to be let out yesterday and now you come BACK?"

“I’m telling you, I have a right to see them! General or not, you can’t stop me.”

He smiled. He'd hoped that he'd find her. He should've known that she would find him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you liked this little chapter. I wanted to return a little bit to the style I used in the first chapter for fun. I have another of these in the works and my next chapter of "Callsigns" will be up tomorrow morning. Thanks for reading!


	6. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn faces her greatest adversary yet: a fancy dress!
> 
> "He lacked finesse and she lacked confidence, but together they performed something that could perhaps be called dancing."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Jyn Erso could count on one hand the number of times she’d been dressed up nicely in her life. The first time, she’d been little more than a toddler. Her papa and mama had coaxed her into a party dress for what might have been Krennic’s birthday, but the memories were foggy and she didn’t much like to think about those days anyway. The second time, she’d needed to steal imperial documents from some officer or another and so she broke into his home. She’d found his bedroom, and in a moment of whimsy she’d tried on his wife’s fancy ball dress. It had nearly gotten her caught and after that she swore she’d never dress up again.

_How the mighty have fallen._

She knew what she needed to do, but every practical part of herself refused. How hard could it be to put on a simple dress? In her first attempt, the damn thing had gotten stuck over her head. She’d valiantly fought the filmy material for a minute or two, before admitting defeat and chucking it to the floor. With her foot, she nudged it as far away as she could. What if a fight broke out? How would she defend herself wearing that anyway? At best, she could grab the hem and tie it around her legs, but that would limit her mobility. At least it was long enough that she could strap a small blaster to her thigh.  
She stood in front of a full-length mirror, stark naked with her arms hiding her chest. She never looked at herself so critically before. There were too many jobs to do in a day to care much for her appearance. It had taken a half hour of brushing to get the snares and tangles out of her hair. She’d scrubbed her hands raw to get rid of the dirt beneath her nails. Jyn didn’t like elaborate hairstyles or fancy clothes, her daily wardrobe was largely colorless and shapeless in design. Most of it had worn thin and been patched over a half dozen times. She felt just as comfortable in men’s clothes as women’s. 

But that thing? It was ghastly. A deep burgundy of what could pass for silk, with short sleeves, backless, and a diving neckline. She could only guess as to where Princess Leia found it. But, the Princess had only smiled and said: “This is your victory too. Even if they don’t give you a medal for it.” Jyn liked Leia, but she couldn’t help but be a little resentful. Who in their right man held a celebratory ball when there was a war on? It must be a princess thing.

She knew that she was quickly running out of time. If she tried to hide, the Princess would find her. If she burned the dress, she'd face her wrath. Though not much shorter than Jyn, Leia was a force with which not enough Jyn wished to reckon. Nobody would go within a hundred feet of her when she was in the middle of one of her rages with Han Solo. They, as it turned out, weren’t officially a couple, either.  


_Now, why does that sound familiar?_

Jyn Erso had never been defeated before. Well, except for that stint in prison. But that didn’t count. She’d never let herself be defeated before. She swept the dress up off the floor, still holding it a safe distance away from her, as if she feared it would come to life and strangle her. A dress couldn’t be that bad, could it? When Leia had held it up to her, she’d proclaimed it beautiful and told her slyly that Cassian would “adore it” or she’d “shoot him myself.”

In spite of herself, she smiled a little at the thought. He’d asked her to be his date for the evening. Definitely a bold move for a man who tried, despite her own best efforts, to keep their budding relationship quiet. She spent most nights in his bed, but he still avoided her gaze in public, even in front of their friends. He’d even yet to kiss her properly. It frustrated her to no end, but for now she kept quiet. If he were a jealous man, she’d dance with Bodhi all night just to make him mad and want her more. Unfortunately, Cassian was not so easily manipulated. And she didn’t think of herself as the femme fatale type anyway.  
In a single movement, she threw the dress over her head and prepared for the worst. With that ridiculous hole in the back, at least, she wouldn’t suffocate if it got caught again. She twisted and turned the fabric around herself, until she’d settled it around her body in what she assumed was a flattering manner. 

She opened her eyes and dared herself to look at her reflection.

_Could be worse._

It fit her well, at least. The neckline felt too low for comfort, showing off parts of herself that she usually tried to hide, even from herself. A new dress didn’t change the woman. She still had a few bruises, mottled blue and purple, trailing up and down her arms. She didn’t try to hide them. If she couldn’t be proud of them, what could she be proud of? 

She couldn’t surrender all of her pride. In lieu of the uncomfortable heels that Leia had suggested to her, Jyn slipped on her least dirty pair of utility boots. Jyn’s only adornment was her mother’s kyber necklace. Typically, she did not put it on display. Tonight, she wore it as a talisman against her chest. It eased her discomfort to wear something so familiar. She’d hardly taken it off since she was a child.

With barely ten minutes to spare, she grudgingly made her way to the mess hall. Ignoring the uncomfortable stares of strangers, she held her head high. They knew who she was, of course. Even without the recognition that others received during the formal ceremony, word travelled fast. Nobody accosted her or stopped her, but all the same she sensed that they must all know how much Jyn struggled with the simplest parts of living like a civilian, not a criminal. 

For the occasion, the throne room had been decorated so as to be almost unrecognizable. A large table, overflowing with fruits and other rare delicacies, stood on one end of the hall. Banners had been hung on the walls bearing the emblem of the Alliance Starbird and obscuring the temple’s stonework. It was the kind of excess that the rebellion couldn’t really afford, Jyn knew, but they were probably willing to risk it for the celebration of their first major victory.

A small band played lively music on the dais, willing the onlookers to dance. Stubbornly, Jyn refused. A few pilots came over to make small talk, but they quickly realized there wasn’t much of a point. She searched the room and eventually spotted Cassian: he stood across the room with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Avoiding eye contact. 

She’d also hoped to blend in to the corner of the room, maybe strike up a conversation with Chirrut or Bodhi if she must. If Leia extricated herself long enough from Han Solo on the dance floor, she might come looking for Jyn. Jyn supposed she could lose her if the crowd grew large enough. 

She considered the merits of a fourth glass of Correllian wine, when a familiar shape appeared just behind her. She knew it was Cassian even before he took her by the elbow and turned her around. 

“Are you hiding too?”

“I’ve never been one for parties.”

She could tell that he was taking all of her in, head to feet. She must look ridiculous, with her burgundy dress and her scarcely respectable boots. Cassian didn’t seem to notice or care about her eclectic appearance. Instead, he stood there awkwardly, lost for words? At the sight of her. He still held her arm in his grasp. Well, if this was his response, maybe she’d wear nicer clothes more often.

“The Princess, she threatened to set the Wookie on me if I didn’t come over. She didn’t think you’d join the party if I didn’t.”

“Thanks for the support. It’s good to know that you need to be threatened in order to talk to me.” She kept her tone light, poking fun at him. 

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. He, too, was dressed unusually. He wore a green coat, in a much brighter shade than he usually wore. It looked fitted, tapering in at his thin waist. Buttons bright and gleaming. He’d had his shirt cleaned and pressed, but she recognized it as one he’d wore many times before. His boots, though recently cleaned, looked barely more presentable than her own. 

“She wanted to embarrass me.”

Jyn nodded towards Leia, who brazenly twirled on the dance floor in the arms of Han Solo. Leia wore the same white dress she’d donned for the ceremony that morning, but she’d let her hair down. Jyn suspected that they'd inevitably start fighting again any moment. Leia would stalk off, leaving Han alone on the dance floor, nonchalantly pretending it wasn't his fault. For now, though, they looked absolutely enthralled.

“Nobody here is wearing anything this ridiculous.” 

Cassian laughed and drew her close, resting his hand on her exposed back. A shiver shot up her back. He dragged her by the hand to the dancefloor. She could steal a man’s own gun and shoot him with it. She could climb fifty feet in a matter of minutes. But dance?

Cassian, to his credit, danced fairly light on his feet. He lacked finesse and she lacked confidence, but together they performed something that could perhaps be called dancing. She let him do most of the work; dodging the other couples as they went. It wasn’t so bad. It almost felt like fighting.

They must be attracting attention, courting gossip, angering General Draven. The consummate troublemaker, she’d disrupted his life the moment he’d met her. They couldn’t have expected the outcome. The rebel and her captain. As they spun, and as she grew accustomed to the feeling of his arm wrapped around her waist, she realized that she didn’t much care what the others thought. Eventually, she stopped counting steps and let herself go. For the first time in ages, Jyn’s spirit felt light enough to fly. Breathlessly, she followed him across the floor, never breaking his stalwart gaze. 

She wanted to tell him then and there. She wanted to kiss him shamelessly and damn the onlookers. She didn’t know if she could live like Baze and Chirrut, discreet in public, only showing affection in private. She needed to know that Cassian could love her openly. In time, she knew they'd have to talk about it. For now, though, who needed words when they could have dancing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be up in the next day or two.


	7. Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian fight; she leaves him for good. Cassian grapples with losing her.
> 
> "You can try to kill him, but you can’t say his name?”
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Before Jyn Erso left him forever, they didn’t exchange words. They’d screamed all of the words at each other late the night before. Or more truthfully, she’d screamed and raged at him and he’d weathered the storm as best he could. Now, in the cold light of day, he sat on the edge of their bed. It had been the site of so many joyous nighttime activities, only now it felt like a bed of stone. Next to him, she pulled one boot on after the other without meeting his eyes.

He felt like a wounded man. He looked disheveled, still dressed in his clothing from the day before. He didn’t have the words to make her stay. It wasn’t even pride that kept him quiet; he’d lost all of that a long time ago. It was defeat. Over the past weeks, he’d noticed that her fire began to smolder, slowly burning down to nothing but embers. The bright core in the star had finally been snuffed out.  


“Goodbye, Cassian.”

Despite his best efforts—and the fire of their passion—reality crept up upon them. He’d known, on some level that she would leave him eventually. Truth be told, he’d been terrified of that fact. He’d always thought she’d leave him late in the night and never come back. Cassian was grateful he’d gotten to hold her all night one last time. A small mercy.

To keep his composure, he didn’t look up as she picked up her bag and moved to the door. He felt her presence linger there, but still he refused to glance up. Better to make the break clean. No tears, no more hysterics. Better to feign amicability. Over the years, he’d lost many acquaintances who might have been friends in a happier life. Like all of the others, he’d push her from his mind. Focus on his job. He’d go back to working for Draven, distract himself. He’d lock everything away again. He wouldn’t be happy, or whole, but he could live.

Maybe, in a dozen years, they could meet again and make things rights. Ashamed of his own weakness, he could’ve laughed at the absurdity. Jyn Erso didn’t take half measures and neither did he. They would never meet again, never have a joyful reunion. She’d run and he’d stay, as they’d been doing their entire lives.

Who were they, anyway, thinking they deserved the fairytale. Well…never a fairytale. With a twinge of dark humor, he admitted that they’d struggled together far too often to be anyone’s definition of a perfect romance. But, still. Why should Cassian Andor get to enjoy a decent life when the men he’d put into the ground could not? 

He’d known, from the beginning, that he did not deserve her. She didn’t think so, of course, tried to assure him of that fact. Stubbornly, he’d continued to distance himself in public from her. A critical mistake. One mistake in a lifetime of thousands. What’s one more added to the list?

 _Everything_ , and he knew it. The fight was brutal. It had started innocently enough, with Jyn resting her head against his chest, their limbs and bodies intertwined after a midnight escapade. In these moments, he felt his most healthy and whole. He’d talk for hours if she let him. He’d scratched her back and she’d listened, listening intently as he prattled on. The memory, though recent, left him feeling even colder than before. 

He’d been talking about the people he admired most in his life, when he’d tripped up on her father’s name. He had no right to bring Galen up, no right to include her father in that list. Shamefaced, he’d turned away from her.

“You can try to kill him, but you can’t say his name?”

That started it. How could he tell her that he wanted, desperately, to be worthy of her father’s daughter? How could he tell her about the guilt that ate away at him every time he thought of Galen dying on that bridge?

They’d talked about Galen before, of course. Those conversations were painful, but necessary. Jyn had let her forgiveness be known in action, if not in words. After surviving Scarif, there weren’t many rifts left between them. They knew each other too well for vulnerabilities, but still, his fears persisted. 

After witnessing the callousness at Eadu, and admitting his complicity in it, her anger hit too close to home. He’d challenged her about Saw, a man she often vilified despite the atrocities he’d committed. However conflicted she felt once about Saw, she clearly loved the man as much as she’d loved her own father. 

In the aftermath, Jyn was the one to speak first. Plainly, without hesitation, she told him that she was leaving. She wanted to find her own peace somewhere else. Far away from people who would remind her of Galen and Saw. All through the night, he’d stayed close, willing the dawn to never come. But the sun, stubborn as Jyn, rose in the sky and the end came along with it. 

He heard her open the door and step out. He strained his ears to her footfalls, determinedly walking away from him, away from their life together.

Before, if someone had asked Cassian about Jyn, he’d have said that she burst into his life like a live grenade, a complication who became an ally by necessity, then a friend, then more. She’d woken him from a lifelong slumber. If someone had asked Jyn about Cassian, she’d have said that he interrupted her life, upending it and opening her eyes in the process. When she left him, he knew he’d never return to the way he was before. She’d launched a grenade after all, just with a delay on the explosion. She'd thrown herself and he'd willingly caught her. 

Did she realize, he wondered, how fateful their meeting had been? Did she realize, he wondered, that she always left destruction behind her? That was the destiny of some people, he supposed. They came into your life, changed everything, and then left you wordlessly to pick up the pieces, alone. He couldn’t even blame her. 

He knew that he’d try to lock her memory away. He’d try, and he’d fail. Just as he’d tried and failed to stay detached from her. At least he’d have her memory to keep him warm at night. Suddenly, the need to move struck him. He stood up, stretching, and began to straighten up their room. 

_My room_ , he corrected himself.

But, try as he might, it would never just be his again. Her fire had scorched the walls and left an imprint of her there. There was no escaping the gravity of Jyn Erso. He picked up a few shirts that she’d left on the floor. A habit he’d once found annoying, then endearing, now heartbreaking. 

Without her, what did his life amount to?

A thousand stolen secrets. Dozens of dead men. Very little to show for it. The greatest accomplishments of his life were tied up with her. They happened because of her. She’d been the greatest victory of his short life. He didn’t want to pick up the mess she left behind. He wanted to watch the mess on his floor steadily grow and grow, he wanted to trip in the middle of the night over it. He threw the shirts in his hands back onto the floor.

If he ran enough, he could still catch her. He’d make a fool of himself, but he did it anyway. He’d chased after before and he’d be damned if he didn’t do it again. It didn’t matter that he looked—and felt—like a madman. He didn’t care. He just wanted her back so that she could keep making a mess out of his life.

Ignoring the cold of Echo Base, ignoring his bare feet, he took off after her, desperate to catch her. He ran past pilots, rebels, officers who appeared shocked, scandalized, skeptical. If he and Jyn kept this up, they’re fights would be as legendary as Leia and her smuggler lover. Cassian didn’t care. He’d prove to her that he could be just as dramatic as Jyn at her best. He threw open doors, brushed people aside, ignored shouts and ‘good mornings.’

She stood on the loading ramp of a small spacecraft, something she was probably “borrowing” for the day. She carried a crate on her shoulder, her bag in her other hand. Barking orders with her back turned away from him. Then, as if someone had tapped her shoulder, she twisted slowly. Her eyes fell on him and she froze.

Approaching hesitantly, she realized that he hadn’t planned this well. She could still be furious; she might reject him in front of the entire base. She might shoot him. When he was an arm length, however, he realized his fears were unfounded. Though she clenched her jaw, he noticed the unmistakable glisten of tears in her eyes.

“You followed me.” 

It was a statement, not a question. She kept her face neutral, but he could see beyond the façade. She tried too hard to keep her emotions in check. If he wanted her to stay, he’d need to break through her stubbornness. 

“What we have will always be enough.” 

He didn't know where the words came from. He wasn't even sure what they meant, only that they were true. Her face didn’t crack. Instead, she turned away from him. His heart sank in his chest.

“You know what, Harut? I don’t think I’ll need the ship today after all,” she called to a man onboard the ship, “I forgot that I already had plans.”

She tossed Cassian a look, something caught between amusement and exasperation. She had the old fire back, this time for good. She could run, but Cassian, ever loyal, would always find her. She burned like a beacon in the dark, he need only follow the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you liked it :)
> 
> The inspiration for this piece was the song “If I Go, I’m Goin’” by Gregory Aan Isakov, particularly the lines:  
> “And I will go if you ask me to,  
> I will stay if you dare,  
> And if I go I’m goin' on fire,  
> Let my anger take me there”
> 
> Callsigns updates tomorrow morning, EST. Even after Callsigns is complete, I'll keep working on this regularly. I also have a mult-chapter fic in development--tentatively titled "Extraordinary"--just working out some of the details.


	8. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cassian didn’t want to feel like an old man at thirty. And this baby, if anything like its mother, would age him by decades."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Jyn Erso had been screaming for hours. This particular situation, Cassian believed, probably justified it. The medical droid informed him that first deliveries were often the hardest and the longest. Cassian had weathered Jyn’s temper for a long while, he committed to staying by her side, no matter how loud she screamed or how quarrelsome she became. They’d gotten here together and he’d see this through, as he had throughout their relationship.

“Expect to be here all through the night, Captain. Expect her to get worse, too.”

Medical droids weren’t known for their bedside manner.

To his credit, Cassian did what little he could do to ease her pain. He wet her brow with a cloth, he let her squeeze her hand until it turned blue, and he helped her clutch the kyber crystal. Still, Jyn approached giving birth just as she’d approached everything else: defiantly, angrily, and with a healthy slew of curse words at the ready. She barked orders and made demands, complained and raged. Hours and hours of it, her fire burned on. 

As always, Cassian was a little in awe of his wife’s fire. Like any father, he was eager to meet his child, but he was also apprehensive about bringing another little Jyn into the world. Could he actually handle them both? He wouldn’t be twenty-eight forever. Already, battle fatigue and old war wounds troubled him when it rained or if he slept somewhere besides in Jyn’s arms at night. He didn’t want to feel like an old man at thirty. And this baby, if anything like its mother, would age him by decades. Still, he knew it would be worth it.

 

When the time finally came, it was just the two of them: the medical droids vanished, the medbay disappeared, and it was just two people and the life they brought into the world together. After, Jyn held their child and proclaimed him little “Galen Jeron”, after the fathers they’d lost but never truly known.

Eventually, Jyn handed him over to Cassian as she drifted off to sleep. Knowing that Jyn had earned a nap, Cassian was content to have little Galen to himself for a while. He looked at the small, wrinkled face of the baby in his arms. He stroked the tiny tuft of jet black hair. Galen, like his mother, wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep. Cassian let him, but continued to look on his son with the awe and wonderment inimitable to first time fathers.

Cassian never considered himself a good man, but he must have done something in some lifetime to be rewarded like this. In what galaxy had he earned such happiness? He’d never envisioned himself as a father. He’d simply never had the luxury. He never thought he’d find a woman he’d want to settle down with, much less find a woman with whom he’d be have a child. Before meeting Jyn, he’d never trusted himself to have a future that could support a child and a wife. He wanted to be a man that his son would be proud to know, a man like his father, a man like Jyn’s father. Cassian knew he’d never be a perfect father, probably never a worthy father, but he would try with every fiber of his being. He didn’t have a noble past, but he’d made Jyn and Galen a promise, and for them at least, that was always enough. 

The knowledge that the small bundle in his arms would rely on him felt overwhelming. He could be trusted to assassinate, to sabotage, to gather intelligence. Who in their right mind would trust him to care for a baby? Who was he to think that this was a good idea? Whenever his doubts surfaced, Jyn was there, absolute in her conviction that they could be parents. Her certainty was so strong that he couldn’t disbelieve her. 

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” 

Cassian spent so much time looking at Galen, he didn’t even notice that Jyn woke up.

“Gets that from your side, I think.” 

“Well, when he starts screaming we’ll know he got that from you.”

Careful to keep Galen’s head propped up, Cassian sat on the edge of Jyn’s bed. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Despite her sweaty appearance, aching body, hair plastered to her forehead and her flushed face, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Well, excluding Galen. He handed their baby back to her and she took him gratefully. Jyn looked at her baby fixedly, memorizing every detail of his tiny face.  
When he looked at them together like this, he knew that he had found a new purpose in life. A new reason to live. Everything would change. He’d never felt so deliriously happy in his life, as if he were content to sit and stare at his wife and their son forever. He hoped that he’d watch Galen grow up. To do that, he knew he couldn’t take on anymore missions, no more danger seeking. He’d resign his commission in the morning, if he could bare to be apart from Jyn and Galen long enough. Cassian always feared that when the time came that he wouldn’t be able to give up his life in the rebellion. Looking down at little Galen, however, he knew the choice was the easiest he’d ever need to make. 

_They said fatherhood would change me. They never said it would be this fast._

Cassian wanted to introduce his son to every person at the Base. He wanted to pick him up and show him off, tell the entire galaxy how proud he was. For now, though, he was content to share his joy with just Jyn. In the morning, their friends would visit. Chirrut found a bright red blanket somewhere and wanted to present it to the baby, Bodhi had won a stuffed plush bear in a game of cards with the pilots, Baze and Kaytoo managed to find small trinkets as well. Odds and ends, small tokens gathered during wartime, as precious to the new parents as gold.

In those wee hours before dawn, Cassian didn’t think about the man that he was or the man he had been. He didn’t think about the danger or the struggle or the war that he and Jyn had barely survived. The guilt that he carried with him, the prison he’d built for himself, vanished the moment that he heard his son’s cries mingling with the soothing whispers of his wife. The darkness that surrounded Jyn and Cassian, the darkness which defined their lives for decades, was long gone now. Instead, all he could see was light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than usual, but I hope you don't mind :) I have a several more ideas for these sketched out, so they will continue to update even after "Callsigns" is complete. Thanks for reading and for your lovely comments and kudos <3


	9. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For the first two years of their marriage, they never stopped moving."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Cassian remembered the first time he killed a man. Three men, actually. One right after the other. He didn’t even have time to process their deaths at the time. He’d simply pulled the trigger, as he was first taught to do at the age of ten. Shoot first, feel the pain later. He’d played it cool, of course, a good spy always does. Draven once told him that ice ran in his veins instead of blood. Even now as he recalled it, his heartbeat kept its usual steady, calm rhythm. It went on beating and he went on living.

Those men, however, wouldn’t be getting up. Did they have wives or lovers they never returned home to? Had they been fathers? Cassian bit back his self-loathing. He didn’t care about those men. He couldn’t let himself care about those men and their imaginary families and their imaginary homes. He’d killed them so that he could go on living. He’d killed them and because he’d killed them he returned home safely to Jyn.

In the old days, when he was still working as an Intelligence agent, he’d come back to her in the middle of the night. Always, he forced himself to lock away the part of himself that operated in the shadows. She knew about his job and its implications, of course. He tried not to burden her, though, with the stories of death and survival. After all, Jyn grappled with her own demons and didn’t need his too.  
He watched her now, so many years later: sitting down in the open field, leaning across the picnic blanket towards him while she held their son, Galen. Her eyes lit up whenever Cassian looked at her. In the earlier days of their relationship, she’d hardly smiled at all. The pain of nearly dying—and the pain of surviving—dragged them both down. But now, he witnessed her smile everyday. She'd grin at him as she joked, or her eyes would twinkle with delight at their son's precocious antics. 

In each other’s arms,they pushed away the realities of the world and found the happiness they had long been denied. Slowly, over time, they discovered reasons within each other to trust and to love. He took his missions without complaint, killing or stealing, running and hiding. For most of his life, the only joy he felt was found in completing objectives, taking down targets, and recruiting. Now, he had the respect and love of a woman who was his equal. In truth, he was _her_ equal. He’d return to the base, hang up his holster, and crawl into bed beside her and let himself forget the troubles of the day. 

Well, he never quite forgot. Certainly, some of the faces blended together after a while and he couldn’t remember most of his targets’ names. Nevertheless, he easily recalled the feeling of cold steel under his finger as he pulled the trigger or the rusty scent of blood. Some memories, he knew, could never be locked away. But Jyn, she healed the darkest parts of himself. Her touch, her love, her comfort, cleared away the clouds and the cobwebs and made him a better man.

He replaced the horrific deeds of his past with thoughts of Jyn and little Galen and the immeasurable purity they brought to his life. Cassian committed himself fully into being a husband and father, in a way that surprised even himself. He wanted to keep the promises he'd made to little Galen on the day of his birth. To Jyn’s shock, he quit the Alliance after the Battle of Endor. 

“They don’t need us anymore,” he told her, as he packed their bags. 

For the first two years of their marriage, they never stopped moving. They had been unable to find a permanent home anywhere, despite months of looking. They’d relocated shortly after Galen’s birth to a small moon in the Corellia system with a plot of land and farm. They were terrible farmers and lacking Galen the elder’s determination, they quickly moved on to Cassian’s home planet of Fest. The planet, choked with industrial smog, caused Jyn to worry about the baby so within a few months they disappeared into the ether again. On and on they went, never truly settling down. The restless parts of Jyn carried them away each time they tried to settle down. To support their family, they took odd jobs for corporations and companies, bouncing around the galaxy on all sorts of ships with all sorts of crews. No matter how hard they looked, though, they were never able to find a crew to match Rogue One. 

Tracking them proved difficult. Mon Mothma, however, spent many hours and countless resources trying to find them behind the backs of her fellow politicians. She talked to Bodhi, now a trainer at a flight school on Coruscant, but he pretended not to know where Jyn and Cassian currently lived. 

“I haven’t heard from them in years.” 

She journeyed alone to Jedha in secret to speak to Baze and Chirrut. They too, claimed not to know where their old friends had gone. Unbeknownst to Mon Mothma, Jyn and Cassian asked their closest friends not to inform former members of the Alliance of their travels. They wanted to escape that world for as long as they could. Even so, they always knew they’d have to return eventually. 

Inevitably, she found them. After several days of disagreements and debate, Cassian and Jyn took positions as Mon Mothma’s counselors in the Galactic Senate. Cassian long suspected that the offer had more to do with reconciliation and consolation than a desire to bring them into politics. But, the money was good enough and it kept both Jyn and Cassian from wandering the galaxy aimlessly in search of a purpose with their son. Mon Mothma hoped that they'd stay for good, but just as the tide changes, she knew they would disappear too.

At any rate, Chandrilla—the homeworld of the New Republic—remained beautiful despite the years of war. It provided a good life and a chance to start over for the little family. Cassian and Jyn struggled with survival for many years, but they deserved the life they finally enjoyed. Today, on the tenth anniversary of the first Death Star’s destruction, Jyn and Cassian finally celebrated their greatest victory in contentment and utter peace.

Here, on the shores of crystalline Lake Sah’ot, Cassian watched younger couples toasting and celebrating, chasing their children into the surf. These strangers had no idea they shared wine and toasts with the very people who had made some of the rebellion’s greatest victories possible. Cassian didn’t mind. Those lives felt like they belonged to entirely different people and anyway, he and Jyn preferred anonymity. Better, he thought, to fade into the background and let others take the accolades and victories. His place was with Jyn and Galen now and the rest no longer mattered. 

In his reflective moments, Cassian wondered at the trajectory his life had taken. Looking back at the passage of years, they had passed in a blur of movement and unrest. The only constant was _Jyn_. He could blame—or thank—the woman at his side for that. Perhaps, Cassian and Jyn had been drawn together because they sensed their own brokenness and hopelessness in one another. Within each other’s restless and damaged hearts, they’d found kindred spirits. Together, they'd created a life and a home and a child. For now, they were happy to call Sah’ot home. That would likely change someday, maybe soon or maybe in years, but they knew, so long as they stayed together, that home could be found anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this little piece about three weeks ago, but never got around to posting it. I should have the first chapter of Extraordinary up on Sunday, and perhaps another short one-shot up tomorrow or Saturday (I thought about posting it tonight, but I don't want to post too much at once!).


	10. Probability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you propose to Jyn Erso—and I don’t know why you would—you have a 97.5% probability of success.”
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Cassian carried the ring in his pocket for ages. He’d spotted it across a crowded bazaar, he hadn’t even been searching for a ring. Such a thing seemed trivial, wasn’t it enough that they loved each other? Its soft glitter caught his eye on a peddler’s rack across a crowded bazaar and upon examining it he knew that it was the ring for Jyn Erso. It wasn’t anything fancy, it hadn’t even been terribly expensive. Somehow, it reminded him of her. Small, of indiscriminate but strong metal, with a small pale grey moonstone set deep in the center. Sure, it was slightly bent and battered, but so were they. And in the middle of the war, he could hardly go off in search of extravagant diamonds. Jyn wouldn’t fancy a flashy ring anyway.

Now, he strolled through Echo Base just to keep his body in motion. He felt himself overcome with nervous, almost boyish energy unlike his usual composure and poise. His thoughts crashed against each other in his mind, like waves breaking over rocks on the shore: Would she agree to marry him? How should he ask her? Did she even want to get married? Should he slip it under her pillow that night? 

_Should I throw it at her and run?_

He walked as if on a cloud, scarcely noticing the bone-chilling cold surrounding him. If she could see him now, she’d surely laugh. Poke him in the ribs, grin mischievously, and read him immediately. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when she’d first begun to understand him, but whatever he did, he had trouble keeping his motives from her anymore. He’d need to tell her soon, before she realized. Or worse, before Chirrut realized and let it slip accidentally.

Lost in his own giddiness, Cassian plowed into a group of pilots walking casually through the hallway. Hastily, he made his excuses and carried on, jittery and anything but calm. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, hoping to calm their shaking. Reassuringly, he patted the little ring. If he could face down Death Troopers and the Death Star he could certainly propose to Jyn Erso.

Still, he couldn’t help but think he might take the Death Star again right that moment.

_I just need a distraction. Something to keep me from bumping into walls._

Despite its frigid temperatures, Cassian grew to appreciate Echo base and its icy charms. Some mornings, before the base had really awoken, he and Jyn took out tauntauns to go exploring. They’d been warned, of course, about the dangers of unnecessary solo missions, especially on an ice planet like Hoth, but nobody ever reprimanded them too fiercely. Three mornings in a row, they’d ventured out to a high ridge overlooking the base. From the top, they could watch the sun rise over the ice and snow. The views, Cassian had to admit, were breathtaking: the sky turned from pitch black to the brightest yellow and red to a rich, royal blue within minutes. He tried to remember the past, but he couldn’t ever recall appreciating something as simple as a sunrise. When had Jyn Erso changed his perspective on life?

_Well, that's why I'm marrying her._

Hoping to tame his restless mind, Cassian opted for reading in the mess hall, maybe striking up a conversation with Bodhi or Chirrut if they were around. Conversation with a friend might calm his ragged nerves. Unfortunately, none of his crew were around. Totally alone, Cassian tried sitting still with his datapad, but he couldn’t help tapping his foot anxiously. He tried reading holorecords, but after a few sentences he’d consistently lose his place. Frustrated, he threw his datapad into his duffel and stood up. Distracting himself failed. Jyn Erso, it seemed, was not content to leave him alone.

Next, he hiked to Hangar Bay 7 to check on _Rogue One_. If he couldn’t focus properly, at least he’d pretend to be productive. If he was lucky, Kaytoo would already be there with a ready quip and a multitude of complaints. If anybody could drown out Jyn, it was Kay.

Sure enough, he spotted Kay looming over a mortified-looking sergeant by their ship. It could’ve been about anything; Cassian suspected that Kay was deliberately trying to pick fights these days. He’d still not quite forgiven Cassian for making his relationship with Jyn public, and he’d been acting out accordingly.

“Kay, leave the man alone, won’t you,” Cassian called as he set his duffel down upon the durasteel plated floor with a dull _clunk_ , “Sorry, sergeant. He just says whatever comes into his circuits.”  
With Kaytoo distracted for the briefest moment, the man ducked and ran out of the hangar bay, not even acknowledging Cassian’s presence.

“Do you have to scare him, Kay?” 

Cassian kept his tone light as he pulled off his parka and threw it over a refueling unit. 

“Scare them? I only informed the sergeant not to touch our ship.”

“It’s his job, Kay.”

“I am perfectly capable of seeing to my own ship.” Kaytoo deadpanned, as if the man’s job was meaningless when compared with Kaytoo’s own desires.

“Your ship? When did you become Captain?” Cassian asked in mock seriousness.

“The same time you decided that seeing that Erso woman was a strategic move. I’m only looking out for the wellbeing of the ship and the crew now that you have other priorities.”

After a bit of searching, he located a mechanic’s helmet and creepers. Laying on his back, Cassian prepared to go under. A few hours with nothing but _Rogue One_ to work on would do him so good. He could push the thought of his looming engagement off for a while longer.

“Kay, I’m going under the ship. I want to check the outside of the cargo clamp on the ventral plating—Bodhi mentioned hearing a whistling noise during the last shipment.”

Kaytoo began talking incessantly, but Cassian ignored him. Probably more slights aimed at Jyn.

Using his feet to kick off, Cassian rolled under the ship. Using a light on the helmet, Cassian groped along the underbelly of the battered old VCX-100. He only had a few inches of clearance directly under the midsection of the plane, whereas at the nose or in the rear he would have benefitted from additional lift. Unfortunately, the height discrepancy meant that he could only spend a limited amount of time under the ship before the cold would begin to set in. If he didn’t find the leak soon, he’d have to take a break, warm up, then try again. 

Still, Kaytoo droned on and on. Cassian only caught snippers of "Jyn Erso" this and "Jyn Erso" that.

For a few moments he ran his hands over every surface, relying on memory of his ship's various dents and dings. It was an art form, he supposed, memorizing every flaw in its surface and distinguishing cosmetic damage and more serious risks. The ship had certainly seen better days, but it had served him and Jyn well these many months. 

Shaking his head slightly to rattle out thoughts of Jyn, Cassian resumed his search. Minutes passed in quiet frustration, his only companion the monotonous voice of Kaytoo that continued speaking even after Cassian had stopped listening. Just before he gave up on his task, Cassian felt a jagged edge under his fingertip, it felt unusual and new: the source of Bodhi’s ominous whistling noise. Probably nothing, old ships like this creaked and moaned all the time, but he’d do what he could to ease Bodhi’s anxiety. 

“Kay, do you think you could call over a wrench-jockey? I’ve found the source of—KAY!”

He’d become so engaged with roving the hull that he hadn’t noticed Kaytoo sticking his head below the ship, down to his level. The droid eyes stared at him.

“You’re thinking about Jyn Erso again, aren’t you?”

“No, Kay, actually, I’m thinking that this will be a quick fix. If you don’t mind, get out of my way so I can warm up?”

Roughly, Kaytoo grabbed the end of the creepers and jerked Cassian roughly from under the ship, causing Cassian to bang his head painfully on the way out. Eyes watering, Cassian stayed on his back on the creepers, silently damning the droid. Feigning helpfulness, Kaytoo threw Cassian’s parka over his limp body.

“Will you get me an ice patch for my head?” 

“There’s ice all around us, Cassian.” The droid replied. Only he could make such a pronouncement sound friendly yet threatening.

Kaytoo sat cross-legged on the floor examining the complicated wiring of a discarded sweeper droid, as if he and Cassian were merely killing time together and Cassian hadn’t just been injured. 

“But of course, _Jyn Erso_ would get you an ice patch from the medical center, wouldn’t she? She’s so thoughtful and _caring_.”

With an aggressive vigor, he began plucking wires violently out of the sweeper droid with an angry precision. 

“Kay, I’m in too much pain for this conversation right now.”

Absentmindedly, he patted his pocket, expecting to feel the small bump of the ring through the fabric. In shock, his pocket felt empty.

“Kay, I’ve dropped something.” 

“Find it, then.”

Barely restraining himself, Cassian went back under the ship. Only after the feeling in his fingers numbed away did he wheel out, resigned. He angrily eyed Kaytoo, who made no moved to help.

“What is so important that you would risk frostbite to find? Is it something for Jyn Erso?”

“Yes!”

Cassian sat up suddenly, feeling the blood drain from his face. 

“It was a ring, Kay. I’m going to ask her to marry me. Do you understand that? Or are your wires strung a little too tight? I’m asking her to marry me and you don’t get to take that out on her.” 

Staggering to his feet, Cassian meant to leave the hangar bay.

“Just make sure somebody repairs the breach in the hull, alright?”

As he turned to go, he heard Kaytoo’s voice call in a contrite voice:

“If you propose to Jyn Erso—and I don’t know why you would—you have a 97.5% probability of success.”

 

Cassian searched high and low, he bribed pilots for their help, he told Chirrut and Baze and Bodhi who all searched for hours. No sign of the ring. Eventually, Cassian admitted defeat. Not to be undone, however, he didn’t waver in his conviction. He didn’t need a ring to propose to Jyn Erso, he needed the proper moment. Their life would never be about the riches or the glory, it would be about each other. 

Bodhi prepped _Rogue One_ late in the night for Cassian. In the minutes before sunrise, Cassian prodded Jyn awake. A dangerous pursuit, but one that he hoped would be worth it in the end. At first, she fought him wanly, burying her head into the pillow, not wanting to rise from the warmth and comfort of their bed. Slowly, though, he kissed her back to her senses. Without Cassian in bed with her, she had no reason to stay. 

Miffed, but otherwise compliant, Jyn Erso followed him to the hangar bay. He seemed more confident than usual; his shoulders were set straight and proud, he moved with an assured and easy grace. Jyn couldn’t help but smile. Some of the Han Solo swagger must have rubbed off on him.

With Jyn at his side, he fired up the engines. They roared to life and Cassian took off, keeping a low altitude as they skimmed the surface of Hoth. He kept his eyes fixed on the view through the windshield, focusing on the beauty of the sunrise they chased. By now, she must have realized something important was going to happen.

_I can do this._

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. The holos always made this seem so easy. As if the words came naturally to a man who spent most of his life in the shadows, avoiding the light. Light it seemed, like the inevitable rising of the sun, sought him out wherever he hid away. It came for him in the form of Jyn Erso.

“We’ve been together for a while now.”

She looked at him with sleepy amusement. 

“And I was thinking, well, I know there’s a war on, and I know we haven’t had the most normal relationship, but I think that we could— ”

He held the controls painfully tight in his grip, desperate for a way to make her understand. Desperate to start this conversation over. Desperate to return to bed and forget his embarrassment with sleep.  
Jyn, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying his discomfort immensely. Her mirth reinforced his intentions like durasteel. She might laugh at his expense now, but if she was going to make this difficult, he’d drag her into it with him.

“—or, are already, well-suited together, and I think we could be happy together if we just…”

By now, Jyn couldn’t control herself anymore. She could only nod her head vigorously while choking back laughter. Her eyes reflected the gold and crimson and deep blue streaks of the sunrise, refracted by ice and mist. Washed over by the color, she looked almost ethereal, unearthly. 

“Are you asking me to marry you, Cassian Andor?”

Forgetting the controls, he turned to her.

“Did you happen to misplace something? An engagement ring, perhaps?”

She pulled the moonstone ring from her own pocket, holding it up for him to see.

“You know, when Kaytoo gave this to me, he said that if I asked you to marry me, I had a 100% probability of success.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized when I was halfway through this chapter that I’ve written three chapters straight from Cassian’s POV (sorry!). I’ll make the next one or two from Jyn’s perspective, I promise. The main problem that I’m having is that I’ll start writing a chapter for “Intimacy” but I end up expanding it too much and end up filing it away for “Extraordinary” or the “Callsigns” sequel. This one ended up being as long as it is for that exact reason, but the tone is a little too light for Extraordinary, and I’m not sure what direction I want the next part of “Callsigns” to take.
> 
> Please feel free to follow me (if you want) @bluestockng on Tumblr, where I post my stuff, reblog rebelcaptain content (and spiritassassin!), and occasionally do a thing or two with #therebelcaptainnetwork and #rebelcaptainprompts.


	11. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If it weren’t for the heat, she could press hot kisses along his collarbone, leaving a mark just below the neckline, hidden from prying eyes. Their little secret."
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

It was Jyn’s first night spent alone in weeks and it wasn’t even by choice. Despite around-the-clock efforts by engineers, the ventilation and cooling system in the ziggurat on Yavin 4 had still not been fixed. Ordinarily, she might not have cared. After all, she’d spent much of her childhood and teenage years drifting between planets, many with dangerously hot climates. In this instance, however, she had trouble hiding her indignation because the heat became so stifling that Cassian exiled her from his quarters.

Not that he’d wanted to do it willingly, she admitted. He’d looked remarkably sad for a man who made his living by keeping his emotions in check. When she’d turned away from him at the door, she couldn’t help but think of a small, dark puppy robbed of its favorite plush toy. But he’d know and she’d known that they could never fall sleep together with the temperature soaring so high. Normally, she’d suggest getting fresh air, but the temperature was unbearable whether she was inside or out.

They’d spent several languid hours, lounging in the bed wearing as little as possible. Their relationship was still new, and Jyn sometimes found herself staring at his body when he wasn’t looking. She loved his profile: His shoulders weren’t broad, but they gently sloped to perfectly fit her arms when she wrapped them languidly around him. Cassian lazed against a pillow he’d propped against the wall, one arm crossed behind his neck. If it weren’t for the heat, she could press hot kisses along his collarbone, leaving a mark just below the neckline, hidden from prying eyes. Their little secret.

Jyn knew that even on top of the sheets that it was far too warm in the cramped room for their skin to touch, but even so she was stubborn enough to try anyway. Laying on separate sides of the bed wore her patience thin and finally she broke and tried to make a move. Inching closer, she watched Cassian wipe sweat from his brow as he sunk back against the pillows, dozing. Her mission was doomed to fail, but she’d try anyway. 

Cassian, usually receptive to the way she curled around him and kissed his neck, pulled away from her with an exasperated sigh. Still, she persisted, reaching for him. Eyeing her warily, he scooted to the edge of the bed, reaching for his crumpled shirt hidden under hers. He seemed to consider it in his rough hands for a moment before chucking it away.

“It’s too hot for this, Jyn. _Out_ .”

She’s expected admonition or perhaps a chuckle—Cassian had warmed up considerably after Scarif—but instead he was turning her away in her moment of need.

“Why are you making me leave? What did I do?”

Even Jyn recognized the faux innocence in her voice.

“Because if I don’t make you leave, I’ll give in— _I want to give in!_ —and we’ll die from the heat, that’s why.” 

Grumpily, she’d dressed in bitter silence. She tried to ignore his sad eyes. For a moment, she’d considered making a scene. He’d still not let her tell the others about their relationship, and the thought of revealing it to the entire base felt sorely tempting. She could throw something against the door, not _hard_ , but loud enough that the neighbors would notice. She could stalk out of his room, half-dressed like now. They’d be the gossip of the base, stealing the spotlight from Leia and Han for a moment. Jyn wanted to, but she didn’t.

Her placement here was tenuous at best, and anyway, her impulsive actions had already landed her in prison (and worse) in the past. She was better off leaving Cassian alone with his guilt and the heat to stew in silence for a few hours. He’d come knocking on her door, surely, within an hour. He’d ask her back, in spite of the heat. 

After arriving back, fully dressed in her own room, Jyn regretted the decision to tempt Cassian. Her quarters were lonely, less lived in. There was no Cassian Andor to admire and kiss. Quickly, she learned that Cassian Andor had far more reserve than she. Jyn was stubborn. But Cassian was _dedicated_.

Now, she flopped down onto her nearly strangely bed. An instant after her door shut, she’d ripped off her shirt and thrown it as far away as possible, as if it could make her hotter if not kept at a reasonable distance. Looking about, any inspector worth their salt would know she hadn’t spent a night here in a long time. It was too neat to be the homespace of Jyn Erso. Clearly, a sweeping droid had paid her quarters a visit since her last residency. She took down her bun, letting her brown hair fan out. As she shifted, Jyn tried to find a comfortable spot but found that her discomfort was not so easily overcome. Her skin prickled uncomfortably with the itch of sweat and her back stuck to the top sheet.

Alone with her thoughts and her own untouched lust, Jyn had nothing with which to distract herself. All of her things were in Cassian’s room. She couldn’t be sure exactly where, but they were there. Instead of Cassian, she had an empty bed. She vainly tried to distract herself by picturing him in that moment, alone in his quarters, equally frustrated. Unfortunately, in these daydreams Cassian was always able to drift off to sleep while Jyn couldn’t. The thought of him, lying in bed, sprawling shirtless kept her awake. 

Instead of admiring the view in person, Jyn found herself stuck in her own cramped room, bored and sticky from perspiration. She felt restless, but she couldn’t exactly go for a walk through the temple in her skivvies, as tempting as the thought had seemed before. It might finally convince Mon Mothma that Draven had been correct about Jyn’s utter insanity.

The heat climbed dangerously high as if it threatened to stifle her. Without any windows in the blasted ziggurat, there was little chance of respite. She could hope that the engineers would find the problem and fix it soon or that the sun would set hours early and bring slightly cooler temperatures with it. Funny, she thought, that the rebellion could survive constantly fleeing for its life, but might die due to excessive heat waves and lack of air.

What they needed, she decided, was something cool. They could nick a ship, go for a joy ride, find some tropical temperature beach planet. Or better yet, a nice frozen ice planet. Sitting up, she reached for a glass of water on the bedside table. She should’ve taken a sip, but instead Jyn Erso dumped it over herself.

_I have an idea._

It wasn’t a good idea. It was a stupid idea, really, especially if Cassian was still angry with her, but she didn’t much care. Hair dripping water, she pulled her shirt back on and headed out the door. Minutes later, a sleepy looking Cassian opened the door for her. He still hadn’t bothered to replace his shirt, making her job somewhat easy.

“Jyn, why are you wet?”

Without a word, Jyn pushed past him, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the shower. Bewildered, but willing to entertain Jyn’s absurdity, he followed behind. When they were both situated behind the current, Jyn turned the knob to _cold_.

Letting out a slight yelp when the water hit, Cassian flattened his back against the duratseel wall, desperate to keep himself out of the stream. Jyn laughed and stretched her armx up over her head to sluice the cool water over her clothing and skin. 

Eventually, Cassian let Jyn drag him under. Before long, he laughed too and splashed water at her. Their clothing sopped wet and their pants hung heavily, but neither cared. The cool water washed away the heat that clung to their skin. It was the sweetest relief. 

Cassian wasn’t often one for frivolity, but he mimed slipping and falling. Jyn bent over double laughing and shoved at him, causing him to lose his footing. Still dressed in his pants, he fell onto the tile with a loud _thud_. The neighbors might have a very different idea about what they were doing, but Jyn didn’t mind. CInstead, she was concerned that she’d crossed a line. Gently, she lifted his face by the chin to her eyes.

He laughed uncontrollably as she pulled him back to his feet. Without thinking, she leaned up to kiss him, nearly standing on her toes to reach him. If the absurdity of the moment occurred to Cassian, he did not show it. Instead, he returned her kiss in kind and ran his fingers through her soaked hair. In seconds, he threw his pants out of the shower and her shirt went missing quickly, too. 

Sometime later, with teeth chattering, they collapsed into bed together. The heat would return soon, but for the moment they were content to shiver in each other’s arms. Jyn wore a smug smile but she knew that Cassian didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m BAAAACK. Thanks for sticking around, I was traveling a ton over the past week, and had no access to a computer for several days. I'm updating "Extraordinary" tomorrow and then again on Sunday, after which it'll return to every Sunday + occasional Thursdays. "Intimacy" will get updated less frequently than before, however, because it takes twice as long to write a chapter for "Extraordinary" than it did for "Callsigns".
> 
> This piece was inspired by a beautiful fan-work I saw the other day called "The Silent Debrief" by sempaiko.


	12. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Unfortunately, Cassian Andor seemed determined to keep a safe distance from Jyn Erso. Jyn decided to change his mind."  
> Casual sparring practice and sexual tension ensue!
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Nobody ever taught Jyn Erso about pursuing a relationship. Instead of a formal education on love and seduction, she approached her feelings for Cassian Andor the way she approached all obstacles in her path: head-on and with pugnacious determination. In short, she competed for his affection, even when she didn’t need to. Ever since Scarif, she’d noticed a pull between them. Cassian, however, seemed adamant about maintaining respectable distance in public. Jyn, wiley as ever, felt determined to change his mind. 

Luckily, he’d agreed to meet her for sparring practice. It was her perfect opportunity to impress him, to get on her good side. She’d watched him in a few fights now and she’d grown concerned: Cassian’s skill rested in sniping and quick drawing. In a hand to hand fight—especially under fire—she worried that his tactics were inadequate. On Jedha, for example, he’d relied heavily on cover and largely avoided close range combat. Saw Gerrera trained and prepared her for anything; she hoped to pass along the lesson.

When she arrived at the gym on base, Cassian already awaited her. He’d dressed down for the occasion, leaving the heavy parka behind and opting for his cargo pants and undershirt instead. She shrugged off her vest and jacket, throwing them over a railing. 

“Going to show me or not?”

He stood against the opposite wall, a safe distance away. With arms crossed over his chest, he looked like a man with a hundred better things to do. She wanted to impress him, never mind the fact that they shared a bed nearly every night. 

“Have you ever used truncheons before?” 

Unhooking her tonfa truncheon from her utility belt, Jyn handed it to Cassian tentatively. She tried not to thrill at the feeling of his hand touching hers, however briefly. Taking a few slow swipes through the air, he tested the grip and the weight in his hand. 

“It’s all about putting as much force behind your swing as you can. If I can do it, so can you. Saw always used to say that something small can make a big impact.”  
Cassian moved closer, nodding. 

“Show me.”

Jyn took her truncheon back from Cassian and grasped it tightly, adopting her familiar fight stance. 

“You can use it to strike, but you can also use it to block. In close quarters, Stormtroopers don’t have the space to shoot, but they do have the space to hit you. With a truncheon, I can make sure those hits don’t land.”

“A good spy doesn’t usually find themselves in these situations, Jyn.”

“Good spies don’t wind up in bed with their informants either, do they?”

In the past, she wouldn’t have dared. A dark look would’ve passed over his face and he’d turn away, leaving her lonely and embarrassed. Now, though, the corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes betrayed his amusement. 

“No, I guess not. What do I do first?”

“You go for their blaster. They can’t shoot you this close very well, but they’re stupid enough to try. Aim for the wrist and knock it from their hand. Even if their grip is strong and they don’t drop it right away, they’ll stagger and you can aim for their helmet.”

Crossing the room, she pulled a suit of Stormtrooper armor, rigged onto a mannequin—armor nearly a decade out of date—into the middle of the room, careful to avoid running over Cassian’s feet. The practice Stormtrooper bore the brunt of years of combat practice: someone had shot through his helmet with a blaster, rendered his chest plate concave, and scorch marks on his legs. It looked like the entire Rebellion had taken out their frustrations on him in lieu of actual troopers.

“He’s seen better days,” quipped Cassian, as he inspected the mannequin up-close, “I’m not sure there’s much I can do to him that hasn’t already been done...did someone set him on _fire_ ?”

“I bet he still shoots better than the real thing, though.”

Planting her feet, Jyn took a few swings at the mannequin, narrating as she went. “First: blaster arm!” _THWACK._ The blaster spiraled out of his hand, clattering across the floor away from them. “Second: helmet!” _THWACK!_ Jyn struck him full across the face, the armor giving way to her blow. “Three: Take out his legs!” _THWAAACK!_ In a flurry of blows, she landed hit after hit to shins and legs without surrendering her footing.

Cassian took the baton from her hand lightly, gripping the handle firmly. He spread his legs apart, locking onto his target, opening up his arms, as if to grapple his rigid opponent. Jyn suppressed a laugh.

“You’re not a street brawler! He’s not going to give you a hug, he’s trying to shoot you. Don’t take up so much room, in this case, being compact will actually serve you well. Keep it small but strong. Keep your limbs close to your body until you need to strike out. Think of a coil, ready to spring.”

Without thinking, she placed her hands on his body and moved him into the proper stance. Ignoring the tingle of goosebumps on her arms, she shifted away. 

“Perfect. Now, follow my lead. Try to repeat what I did, but faster. Don’t be afraid to change it up to be more comfortable. You’re taller and have more reach, so you won’t need to get quite as close.”

As he practiced his hits, she tried to ignore the strength of his wiry body. Through the flimsy cloth of shirt, she could imagine his muscles tightening and coiling as he struck the dummy. She watched the sweat creep down his forehead and into his eyes. His shirt clung to his skin perfectly; Jyn tried not to think of removing it for him. Instead, she stripped down to her own undershirt. 

_How well can he fight distracted?_

As if on queue, Cassian pulled his own off and set it aside.

“Too hot,” he offered lamely, averting his gaze from her body. She could see the color now, creeping but his neck. Her own face felt uncomfortably warm. 

Willing herself not to stare, Jyn tightened her gloves. Any other man might have flirted with her, but Cassian Andor genuinely wanted to learn from her. Apparently, neither of them were particularly good at this. They could steal the Death Star plans from under the nose of the Empire, but neither of them could play this game worth a damn.

_Should I hit him in the head? Wake him up?_

Laughing a little, she supposed concussing him wouldn’t help her cause. Jyn, unfortunately, couldn’t banish the thought from her mind. Cassian gave her a strange look and she tried to wipe her face of all emotion the way he could so easily. 

_Well, if he doesn’t know I’m insane yet, he will soon._

“Want to try sparring?”

She didn’t know from where the words came, only that they flew forth without her will or consent. Just because she thought them, didn’t mean she wanted to say them!

“I’ve seen you fight, Jyn. You’re small but you’d kill me.”

A wry grin played on her lips. Extending her arms to stretch, she casually popped the muscles in her back. She could do this.

“I’ll go easy on you.”

She pulled the straps on her gloves a little tighter, looking forward to knocking some sense into Cassian. If he hadn’t caught on to her feelings yet, what did he think of her climbing into his bed every night? How had he made it to the age of twenty-six without being chased by mad women? How had she made it to the age of twenty-two without learning how to solve her problems with something other than fists and batons?

At first, she measured her blows to avoid striking with unnecessary force, Jyn knew herself well enough to realize that once she started it could difficult to stop. It wasn’t until she was fighting that she realized the untapped tension within her body. Cassian, on the other hand, seemed determined to not only strike with minimal force, but touch her as little as possible. Jyn’s plan, it seemed, had backfired spectacularly. She deliberately gave him an opening to strike her arm, but he feinted out of her reach rather than go on the offense. 

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re afraid to hit me.”

“I’m more afraid of what you’ll do to me in my sleep.”

She jabbed him painfully in the ribs. Clutching his chest, he dodged out of her way. She pivoted on her feet, ready to through herself at him once more. She thought she was a wild glint in his eye; maybe she could test his temper, after all. With a swift motion, he lunged and struck out his leg, catching her off-guard. Struggling to regain her balance, Jyn smiled satisfactorily. Jyn wanted to perfect the art of getting under Cassian’s skin.

The harder she pushed him, the harder he pushed back. In truth, Cassian gave as good as he got. Though Jyn was much smaller and thus faster, she often rooted herself to the spot; willing to fight tooth and nail to the finish. Cassian, ever the spy accustomed to slinking in the shadows, fell into defense and used his superior size and strategy to dodge her more vicious attacks. 

When he expertly skirted her well-aimed kick to his shins, she stumbled and fell. Cassian, who had been laughing, grabbed her to keep Jyn from following. Not to be outdone, Jyn clamped her hands down on his arms and dragged him to the ground with her, determined to win. Together, they fell onto their backs, exhausted and breathing erratically.

Jyn’s head swam. Her limbs ached, her head heart, and yet everything seemed so perfect. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his chest rise and fall. Reining back the urge to touch him, she turned over and propped herself up on an elbow instead. 

“We shouldn’t stay like this too long. Somebody might walk in and get the wrong idea.” 

Cassian spoke in a murmur, without opening up his eyes. The closest approximation Jyn could make was contentment.

“What’s so wrong with that?”

Cassian blinked and looked at her questioningly. Jyn knew she’d never grow tired of those damn brown eyes. In the heat of their exhaustion and humor, something about Cassian had changed. Now, he let his eyes freely roam over her body. Ultimately, his eyes sought her own and she did not look away. 

“Not a single thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by #rebelcaptainprompts recent prompt “Competition”, and also by the incredibly adorable video of Felicity Jones on the Tonight Show demonstrating the use of her truncheon. If you’ve only seen the gifs, I recommend checking out the video. Felicity is fantastic XD


	13. Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They’d kissed once before, but it had been rushed and unromantic. If Jyn were lucky, they would rewrite that episode by the end of the night." 
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

_Jyn Erso, you've done it again._

How many times? How many times had she sulked through one of Saw’s lectures on readiness? How many hundreds of times had he warned her to keep her guard up around the enemy? Unfortunately for Jyn, he never warned her about an enemy like Cassian Andor.

She’d been going stir crazy locked up in the close quarters of Yavin-4, and she jumped at the chance to stretch her legs a bit on a mission. At first, she imagined a grand adventure, fist fights and street brawling not unlike her days as an insurgent. And yet, if she were honest, knowing that Cassian would be going along too was a pleasant condition of her volunteering Very quickly, however, she realized that their mission would mainly consist of camping in the forest of Abu’u with nothing to show for it save a few scrapes and new bruises. 

But, here she sat, perturbed and sweaty, honing a hunk of wood down with a paring knife while Cassian stoked the fire. They’d argued earlier, of course, on something or other that Jyn hadn’t cared enough about to prolong. Since then she had fallen into a mutual haughty silence, unwilling to swallow her pride and offer amends. Cassian moved on in minutes, trying vainly to spark conversation before he too lapsed into silence. Jyn didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him or kiss him. 

She knew this dance; the tension hung in the air between them. Remarkably, Cassian seemed completely immune and oblivious to it and to her anger.

“Are you hungry, Jyn?”

Evening closed in rapidly, slowly wrapping them in darkness as the twin suns sunk behind the trees. The suns cast an orange-red glow upon their little clearing, casting a long shadow over Jyn while bathing Cassian in bright light. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and he badly needed a hair cut, but she admired the slope of his shoulders and the subtle nimbleness of his fingers. He was a handsome man, but she was loathe to admit it. 

Jyn gave a noncommittal grunt and returned to her nonchalant whittling, watching him from the corner of her eye. Cassian ignored her as he placed a few strips of nuna bacon upon their battered skillet. She averted her gaze whenever she felt him look in her direction. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

Quickly, though, the scent of frying bacon wafted up from the fire, tempting Jyn from her stubborn huff. As if against her own will, she inched a little closer to the fire. Even Jyn was hard-pressed to argue with the tantalizing possibility of a full belly.

“Maybe I will have some after all.”

“I made extra for a reason,” he said, with the smallest suggestion of teasing.

Jyn wiped her dirty palms against her trouser leg, suddenly self-conscious of the utilitarian uniform she wore. A size too big and clearly sewn for a man’s body, it didn’t do her any favors. Cassian, on the other hand, sprawled out on the ground with the sleeves of his yellow tunic pushed back to the elbows. Even in the dwindling light, she appreciated the lean, taut muscles of his exposed arms. 

_Get a hold of yourself._

There were some missions too important, too vital to the cause, to be risked by unnecessary fraternization. Stil, Jyn found herself drawn in closer and closer. Her stomach growled loud enough for Cassian to cock his head and smile.

She was only just starting to win back the Council’s favor after her stunt on Scarif. 

_They won't find out._

Sometimes Jyn had to wonder if she were her own worst enemy. Cassian didn’t look much like the enemy anymore; lounging in the light of their campfire, he looked positively inviting. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the low light, the music of the forest, or the close quarters and the bickering. Maybe it was the buttons he’d left undone at his chest.

Her first bite turned to smoky ash on her tongue, just the way she liked it. Jyn’s eyes rested squarely upon his coarse jaw and neck. How would it feel to press a kiss or two there? She guessed it was probably scratchy, but then she always wanted men a little rough around the edges. They’d kissed once before, but it had been rushed and unromantic. If Jyn were lucky, they would rewrite that episode by the end of the night. 

“What’s up?

He asked her casually enough, but he must have caught her staring. Shaking her head, she settled herself into a more comfortable position. Sometimes Jyn wondered if she was her own worst enemy.  
“Just wondering how you managed to steal bacon.”

It was a decent enough lie, and a reasonable question.

He set aside his plate and stretched out his lanky legs, looking for a moment like a languid cat. 

“I thought we could use something nice for once. Dying for the cause has its benefits, you know,” 

The joke danced in his dark eyes.

“And I’m friendly with the cooks.”

In spite of herself, Jyn laughed.

“Did you get anything else good?”

“Now that you mention it…”

Cassian rummaged for a moment in his pack before producing two bottles of Correllian whisky. He twisted the cap off his own, but made no move to hand her the other.

“But if you want to drink, you’ll have to play.”

“Play what, exactly?”

She could envision any number of games; strip sabacc, strip spike, strip anything, really. But she saw no deck of cards and his shirt remained resolutely in place.

“I never.” 

“What the hell’s that?”

“It’s a game, Jyn.”

“Am I supposed to understand what that means?”

Cassian shrugged his shoulders and began to slip her bottle back into his pack.

“Hey!”

The ghost of a grin flitted across his face.

“It’s just a way to get to know each other, that’s all.”

“What, stalking me wasn’t enough for you?”

Cassian chuckled, a laugh surprisingly deep and throaty. He handed her the second bottle across the fire, his fingers brushing up against hers, lingering a second too long. Or had she imagined it?

Jyn swallowed the first gulp before the game even begun. Fiery hot and smoky, it settled not uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. It had been a while since her last proper drink, but her body hadn’t entirely forgotten how.

“So how do we play?”

“It’s easy. You say ‘I never’ and then you finish the sentence. If you’ve done it, you drink, if you haven’t you don’t drink.”

Jyn was confused, but willing to play along. The liquor her stomach told her that she’d do just about anything to get him out of that tunic.

“Okay, you go first?”

Cassian’s eyes lingered on hers for a moment, before his gaze drifted down to her mouth.

“I never kissed a man. Now you drink, because you’ve kissed a man.”

“Low blow, but okay,” Jyn admitted, before tipping back her drink. More alcohol slipped down her throat, bringing heat to the surface of her skin even as the air cooled around them.

“I never lied about being friends with the cooks.”

Cassian shot her a pointed look, but downed a swig anyway.

“I never had a pet.”

Jyn tapped her fingers on the glass bottle, but didn’t drink.

“Saw didn’t want me to get too attached to strays,” Jyn admitted, “I never…blindly followed orders.”

“Not even with Saw?”

“Does it really count if I was a child?”

“Yes!”

Jyn rolled her eyes, but took an obliging sip. The game was stupid, a distraction, but she couldn’t deny that the alcohol was a welcome relief. Cassian also began to show its effects; with each passing question, his movements became wider, his usual precision giving way to dulled movement and heightened humor.

“I’ve never been in love.”

Cassian stared at her through the flames of their fire. Her head felt heavy, hanging on her shoulders, and the edges of her vision blurred a little. But she wasn’t hard of hearing.

“You’ve never been in love?”

“Did I drink?”

Jyn gripped her bottle tighter than needed and pressed it to her lips. She didn’t even feel the whisky slosh out into her lap. Cassain, lost in thought, hadn’t noticed, either. Jyn however, noticed that his cheeks had become more flushed and his dark eyes had become even blacker, reflecting only the burning embers that sparked and crackled in the crisp air.

“I never volunteered for a mission just because I wanted to spend some time with you alone.”

Cassian’s words hung in the air between them. She drank again.

“I never justified my crimes because of my past.”

After drinking, Cassian set his bottle down in the dirt with too loud of a thud. Through the fog of alcohol and the warmth of desire, Jyn knew she had to redirect the conversation quickly. It was his turn, but she spoke first anyway, cutting him off;

“I never wanted someone so badly I forgot my own name.”

Cassian’s eyes travelled up her body, back to her face. He must know her intentions.

Jyn knew the telltake signs well. After all, she was no stranger to desire. She’d earned her badges early, as so many outlaws did before her: mistakes, fumblings, and affairs. The hooded look in his eyes told her that this time would be very different.

“I never forgot a lover’s name,” he offered to her.

“I never learned most of them anyway.”

“Well, now there’s a name I definitely won’t forget,” his eyes glimmered dangerously in the dark, _"Yours."_

Jyn couldn’t answer positively as to who kissed whom first, only that stoking the fire and drinking games quickly took back seat to their bodies and their white-hot need. She’d been wrong, of course, about their kiss: it still felt too rushed, too hasty. But there was plenty of time for gentleness and taking things slow tomorrow when they’d both sobered up.

For now, though, she couldn’t get him out of his tunic fast enough and he couldn’t take his hands off her body. To Cassian’s credit, he hadn’t seemed bothered by her ugly uniform. He was too busy touching what lay underneath. 

Breathing heavy, they shifted to the ground, still entangled as they dodged discarded boots and clinking whisky bottles. For the briefest moment, she paused just long enough to look him in the eye. He looked bewildered and more than a little drunk, mirrored, she was willing to bet, in her own face. Reaching up, she kissed him on the neck, loving the roughness of his skin against her own. 

“I never want to go back,” he managed despite her efforts elsewhere.

“I never want this to end.” she whispered in Cassian’s ear as she drew him closer.

_Give me a week, maybe two, and he'll be drinking to "I love you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry I’ve been out of commission for a while, but work got hectic and writer’s block wasn’t giving me any room. I won’t be posting as often as I once did, but I’m aiming to start up again with other works pretty soon. PS: massive hugs to anyone who knows what TV show inspired this scene (and some of the dialogue as well).


	14. Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Their lives were far too complicated and their jobs were far too messy for either to pray for a happy ending. But a promise was a promise, and she intended to keep it for as long as she could. The problem, of course, was that Jyn Erso waited for nobody." 
> 
> Like a shooting star burning in the night sky, Jyn Erso fought her way across the galaxy, leaving fire in her wake. Cassian Andor couldn’t believe he was the one to catch her.

Three years can pass you by in the blink of an eye. One day you’re leading the advance guard of the Rebel Alliance and then somewhere along the line you wake up and realize that you’re teaching hand-to-hand combat techniques to a bunch of rebellion teenagers who probably needed a therapist more than a weapons instructor. But such was life. Or so Jyn Erso kept telling herself.

The days turned into weeks and the weeks into months before Jyn Erso even realized that she had fallen into the kind of routine she’d always hated; morning: breakfast sparring with the brats, afternoon: forced to skip lunch to play nurse to the brats, night: lock herself out of sight with a nicked bottle of Correllian whiskey. On rare occasions she might have the training gym to herself, but beating up dummies and lifting weights could only tame her nature for so long. Left without a proper outlet, the fire within began to burn the best parts of her away. Drop after drop, she drank the fiery liquor down, hoping that it would fan the flickering flame back to life, but instead it left her numb.

Still, temporary therapy was better than none at all. She had been grounded by the rebellion. It hadn’t mattered that she had saved their asses and their rebellion, too. Jyn Erso was a hot commodity, whose shining character and heroic image was needed for propaganda and P.R. Not that she could determine much of a difference anymore. Tasked with boosting morale of the Alliance she may be, but Jyn found herself falling more and more into a slump. They dragged her out of combat practice with her neophytes every so often to remind her: _You're Jyn Erso. You're a hero! Act like._ Every few months they flew her to some planet she’d never heard of to give a rousing speech to thunderous applaus then they flew her back and clapped her on the back for it. There was a steady influx of new recruits, but the thought didn't make her very happy. The bottles piled up in her corner along with the detritus of rotting bouquets and trinkets sent from adoring fans. Hero, they called her. She didn’t have the heart to tell them that she’d only joined up to free her own skin. Genuine belief in the cause took a little more convincing.

Murky rumors about a mysterious operative with a droid companion surfaced every now and again, but Bodhi could never get a solid lead on him. Jyn would never admit that she’d pushed Bodhi to look for him. Even so, there was only so much a desk jockey in Intelligence could do. Without the security clearance and the good favor, Jyn had only the gut feeling to cling to that he was out there still. If a man like Cassian died in the line of duty there would be no parades or songs in his honor. One or two friends in Intelligence might mourn him and pour out a drink in his memory, but not for long. Within a few days another daring, broken stranger could throw on his leather jacket, combat boots, and stroll right into his role until fate and luck caught up to him, too. How many men had come before Cassian and how many would follow?

If Jyn died, on the other hand, there would be galaxy-wide weeping. The newly-minted Rogue Squadron would paint their stripes black as they soared through space in her honor. Every rebellion-born child would long for the day that they too could rush into battle and lose their lives with her name on their lips. In her darker moods Jyn secretly feared that the Rebellion only held her back so that they could release her at the opportune moment, destroying some future enemy and herself with it. Her own tendencies towards self-destruction and self-preservation were practically legendary.

She assured him that she wasn’t pining. Jyn Erso didn’t pine for anyone, let alone him. After all, the big shot was out living his dream. Three years spent under deep cover. He was back in the game and she was on the bench. Jyn might not admit that she pined, but there was no running from the deep ache making itself at home within her heart.

_Like water in the rock._

In the cold comfort of her quarters, Jyn wasted away most of her nights unable to sleep. The nurse in the medbay had handed her a handful of pills with a faceful of pity, but Jyn rarely used them. Tossing and turning until the dawn, Jyn always awoke to the sun and the dawning feeling that something was missing. On those nights when she awoke to a barren room and empty bed, stretching out a hand in the darkness, she could almost bring herself to admit why.

Most nights, Jyn’s senses were dulled by alcohol and forbidden sleep. Just as sleep had begun to creep in, tempting her into a temporary peace, Bodhi Rook came knock—no—banging—at her door. Barely able to lift her head off the damp pillow, Jyn groaned. She would rather have nightmares of Jedha and Scarif than someone wake her.

_"Lemmesleepsgoddammit."_

“Jyn!”

_"Goawaynowplease."_ Jyn slurred as she rolled over and attempted to muffle the increasingly agitated voice from beyond the door.

“It’s him! I’ve found him!”

em>"Dassverynicenowletmesleep."

Bodhi’s desperate voice sunk to a low whisper.

“Jyn. It’s about Cassian. I know where he is.”

 

Jyn had little time to dwell on Bodhi’s loyalty. For months, she’d broken off contact or disappeared, remerging only to twist his arm about Cassian’s whereabouts. Now, he had stolen her a ship, plotted a course, and invented a relatively plausible excuse for her temporary vanishing. She was Bantha fodder, and she knew it, but one of these days she would at least try to deserve his friendship.

Within the span of an hour, she found herself shooting through space and time, hellbent on a reckless reunion. All she had was a set of planet coordinates (shaky ones, at that), the approximate location of a shady tavern, and the hope that he might still want her. They had parted abruptly with little sentiment and no pretenses of eternal love or devotion. The only promise she made was to stay. Not for him, but for the rebellion. 

“They need you. We need you.” 

Their lives were far too complicated, and their jobs were far too messy for either to pray for a happy ending. But a promise was a promise, and she intended to keep it for as long as she could. With numb fingers, she would touch her lips where he had kissed her goodbye, hoping that his heat would linger there forever.

Jyn stepped down onto an unfamiliar planet, careful to lock her ship down lest the village riff raff set their sights on it. It was an unmarked vehicle—another great trick of Bodhi’s—and as an Alliance vessel it was hardly in its prime, but the parts could fetch a decent sum on the black market. It would be so easy for her to fall back into her old ways. She could sell the ship, junk the parts, and bluff her way onto a transport in the morning. With a few credits in her pocket she could forge scan docs without too much trouble. 

The thought was seductive. To have the wind at her back—and not just for a secret night jaunt—would be a sweet relief from the monotony of her current situation. No more training sessions! No more half-assed speeches. She would be on the run once more. It wouldn’t be an easy life, but it could be hers. But even as thoughts of snatching her freedom danced in her head, Jyn knew she wouldn’t be content to keep running forever on her own. Eventually the fatigue would set in, she would get thoughtless, she’d get in trouble. There were better uses for her talents than petty crime and smuggling, but it was the life she knew and the life she missed. It didn’t hold much value, she knew, but she could really only see her work for the Alliance paying off if she chose to squint. 

Jyn walked through the village as if she knew it by heart. Keeping her head down, she stayed alert and on guard. There were no Stormtroopers in sight, but Cassian had to be stationed here for a reason. Couples walked hand-in-hand along the dirt paths, while hounds chased laps around their masters. A few rag-robed street hawkers packed up their wares for the evening as the rabble moved to taverns and cantinas for their food and drink. She didn’t see the danger, but she was too smart and too experienced to think that was ever safe, especially since Jyn hadn’t had the time to research and prep for the planet’s unique culture. She hadn’t even bothered to remember its name. She had simply heard Cassian and jumped into action. 

For the briefest moment she lingered outside the door of the probable tavern. She was risking a court martial at the least by absconding with an Alliance ship. She was likely risking Cassian’s life by putting his identity in jeopardy. This moment was just the latest in a long string of horrible decisions but she couldn’t very well turn back now.   
Pushing open the door, she walked into an acrid cloud of smoking tobacco. The room was dimly lit by lanterns hanging overhead, filled with dancing Orowatan fireflies. Their flickering created small patches of golden light, illuminating a few booths filled with drunk patrons who cheered on a friendly game of Sabaac between a group Twi’lek laborers. Just a few feet away, the tavern maid stood on a dais, crooning out in a ballad that Jyn couldn’t place. A few couples swayed out of the step to the music. The brightest lantern of all hung directly over the packed bar. 

Jyn saw him first. Cassian’s uncanny ability to blend in and fit into any scenario served him well as a spy, but Jyn knew the man too well to be fooled even with his back turned. Enough days spent hoping for the slightest glance of him had trained her eyes to spot the real thing. He stood at the bar, an arm casually resting on the top. Even at the distance she spotted the hidden blaster in his boot. He was dressed in fresh leathers, clearly he was hurting financially in this new job, but the look didn’t suit him.

During hours of sparring she had pictured him; sometimes he was her training partner and sometimes he was the beaten and battered dummy before her. Jyn wasn’t even entirely sure herself how she would feel when faced with the man in the flesh. Cassian’s jacket hung a little limp across his shoulders, but he still moved with the same gravitas. From across the room she heard his voice. The ache in her chest eased a little. She could do this. A woman passed by with a tray of shot glasses, Jyn lifted one to steel herself.

Perhaps it was the draft from the open door that caught his attention and bayed him turn around to see her standing there. She was dressed in one of his own discarded jackets, no less. The ragged red scarf draped around her hair and shoulders couldn’t hide her from him. 

She raised her glass to him and drank it down in one gulp. Cassian furrowed his brow, the familiar stress lines deepened by three years of constant anxiety. Jyn watched recognition flit across his face. She watched his eyes register shock and surprise. Before she could move, a band of revelers pushed into her path, blocking Cassian from view. Ducking and weaving between them she reappeared by Cassian’s side. 

He had wiped the shock from his face but the stress lines couldn’t be so easily hidden. The weight of living etched and chiseled him away, line by line, until only the barest bones remained. It was Cassian—her Cassian—but time turned against him as it had her. At once she hated herself for every moment she had blamed him for his freedom. 

Longing to reach out to him, instead, she settled for speaking. Even to her own ears her voice didn’t sound right; it was too calm and too stilted. Others might know her legend and her reputation, but Cassian knew the woman. And he would see right through her. 

“It’s me.”

Looking a bid bewildered, he nodded. Swallowing her pride and embarrassment, she soldiered on. Why did he have to make everything so damned difficult?

“I missed you.”

Jyn took a step closer. His chest rose and fall rapidly at her approach. Would he run from her? She longed to close the distance, to feel the heat of his body near her own. Although his face remained utterly composed, she could see the look of confusion in his eyes.

“I must be dreaming,” he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.

“You’re not.” 

She wanted him to open his arms to her, to take her home, to take her away. She didn’t want to share their reunion with a room full of intoxicated farm hands and tavern wenches. Instead, he reached out his hand to her and pulled her away from the bar. They weren’t but five or six steps away when he pulled her into his arms. The weight of him, holding her tighter than she could’ve dreamed, staggered her. With an arm looped about her waist and the other lost in her hair he held onto her for dear life. It felt natural as breathing for Jyn to reach up and kiss him. The warmth of his body spread through her own, heating her until the ache in her chest loosened completely. In three years she had forgotten the feeling of another body pressed against her own, she yearned to relearn it all, moment by moment with him. 

Their embrace was too fast, too passionate, too wild. Anyone watching might guess their attachment and blow whatever cover he had spent months building, but he did not seem to care. Nobody paid them any mind; the others were far too intoxicated to notice the drama playing out before them. 

Jyn rested her head against his chest, breathing him in for a moment. Familiar notes greeted her: a hint of Jedha’s dust, the aroma of kaf beans, leather, and oil. The aching knot in her chest loosened. With shaking hands, he cupped her face in his hands. 

“How did you find me?”

Already, the magic of their reunion had snapped. Cassian allowed himself the quickest moment to lose himself, but he was back to business as usual. She should have known.

“Bodhi.” 

She feared his anger, but instead he smiled. It wasn’t forced by any means, but she could tell that he hadn’t many reasons to in a long while. To her surprise, he did not push her away at once. His arms tightened around her as if he sensed her fear.

“There’s a lot I missed.”

It was Jyn’s turn to smile. They didn’t have the time they needed; they had only until the morning. 

“Are we in danger here?”

Over her head, his eyes scanned the dark room surrounding them. A few drinkers had fallen into calm slumber, but no one seemed to give a damn about the strange couple on the dancefloor. 

“Not much, no. Not at the moment,” Cassian’s eyes beseeched her. Almost hungry in their need to look at her and memorize her face, “how long do I have you?”

“Not long, an hour or two.” 

“Then I’ll hold you as long as I can.”

"They won't get suspicious?"

"You know, no matter how many identities I use, I always kept one thing consistent. I always talked about a girl back home."

Jyn let out a laugh and buried her head once more in his chest. True to his word, he did not let her go for even a moment. Jyn wondered if he was afraid of losing her once more. Three years was a long time and there was no guarantee either of them would still be among in the living in another three. He rested his cheek against the crown of her head, swaying with her side to side. She dare not whisper her feelings, she dare not ask for more than he could give. 

“I won’t be here long. The next time you can get away I’ll be long gone…this is just a crash site for me while I’m in between.”

Jyn could only nod.

“I can’t leave a trail for you.”

The words fell heavy on her. She knew the truth already, of course. He had his job and she had hers. Maybe in some distant future the crossing of their paths could lead to something other than heartbreak.

“Yes.” 

Jyn wanted to tell him that she had found him once and that she would do it again. But she knew him too well. He would find whatever crack had led her to him and he would patch it over, for his safety as well as her own. The Rebellion came first.

The Rebellion threw them together in the cruelest game of fate ever played. Perhaps it would’ve been easier for them, she mused, if their legend had ended that day on Scarif. A beautiful sunset, a tropical beach, a warm embrace. It was almost romantic. Instead, their love story came to an end before it even began. Now, with his arms around her, as safe as she had ever felt, she could finally admit to herself the feeling which she had stamped down or explained away. She could thank the Rebellion for giving her love and damn it for tearing it away.

For the rest of the evening a single word did not pass between them. He simply held her and she him. She dreaded the moment when she must tear herself away from him and make her way back to base, forced to soldier on through the slog of training and press and hero worship that she despised. For an hour or two, she would force herself to forget the past and the future. Jyn focused instead on the scent of his jacket, the unsteady rhythm of the band, and the unspoken promise that they both now kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading. I know it's been forever since I updated, well, anything, but I will try to do better. I have another chapter coming soon for my rev war fic The Rebel and the Revolution which should be up in just a couple of days. Thank you for sticking by me, even when I don't deserve it. Y'all make it all worthwhile. <3


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